Artemis Fowl: Cause and Effect
by Mockingbirdflyaway
Summary: Cause: A fairy stealing the Mona Lisa. Effect: Having to put up with the most irritating, unpredictable woman on the planet while you try to recover it and avert another crossworld disaster.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl ain't mine. But he's fun to play with anyways.

Summary: When the Mona Lisa disappears without a trace from the Louvre's Salle des Etats by means that only a dwarf could pull off, the LEP recieves a ransom note of roughly Koboi proportions.The thief left something behind in the museum. Something that was meant to be found. Desperate and running out of time, the LEP turns to now 25-year-old Artemis Fowl for help in quickly recovering the artifact. Problem is, someone's already found it -and she's not going to give it back without a fight.

* * *

**THE NEW YORK TIMES **

MONA LISA VANISHES FROM THE LOUVRE.

**_Police and Museum officials baffled_.**

_By Camilla Buriers, Special correspondent. _

"_At 8:30 this morning, Security guards opened the Louvre to find that the priceless DaVinci masterpiece had vanished from its protective plexi-glass case in the museum's impenetrable Salle des Etats._

_The painting appears to have been removed through a large hole that had been melted into the front of the case. Louvre security and Paris' Judicial police force is in uproar as no alarms went off during or after the theft and all the rooms cameras appeared to have been turned so that they could not capture the intruder(s) image. _

_An investigation is underway to determine why the alarms and moisture/humidity sensors were not set off by the thief's presence while the government and the Louvre officials can only plead for the painting's safe return of their beloved DaVinci masterpiece while Paris' citizens weep in the streets. _

_The Mona Lisa was painted by the renowned and brilliant Renaissance inventor and painter, Leonardo DaVinci in 1503 in the beautiful and difficult sfumato style…"_

Twenty-five-year old Artemis Fowl threw down the newspaper in disgust and began to pace the study of his penthouse above Dublin's harbour. The theft positively screamed dwarf involvement, from the seemingly invisible entry and exit due to the rotated camera's to the melted plexiglass case in the Salle des Etats. The hole had been caused by Dwarf Rock Polish, if he was not mistaken.

The thing that troubled Artemis was that the only dwarf he knew who had given up his magic and had extensive experience with breaking into high-security human establishments was currently on vacation with his business partner in Atlantis, but then Mulch had always said breaking into human dwellings had always been a piece of cake, so long as there were no dogs and Artemis knew the Louvre didn't have any. Dog dander tended to stick to the paintings.

But then, Artemis knew that Mulch wasn't the only dwarf out there with sticky fingers and no stomach for spells.

His fingers were already reaching for the fairy communicator on his belt (He had long since disguised it as a cell phone) when it began to buzz and vibrate.

With a small smile, Artemis plucked it from his belt and flipped it open to reveal the nut-brown visage and large hazel eyes of one Holly Short, a former captain in the Lower Elements Police force's Recon division and now a Private Eye with more tricks up her sleeve than the average magician.

The look on his old friend's face stilled Artemis' grin.

"Artemis," she said, her expression grave.

"Holly – I take it you've seen today's newscast."

She nodded.

"I just heard from Foaly that Police Plaza just received a ransom note for the painting. It indicated that the thief left something behind up there."

Artemis' grin faded from his expression altogether. "Something fairy related." He guessed.

Holly nodded once more.

"We're facing another Koboi situation – and yes -"said Holly, catching Artemis' expression, "She's still in Howler's Peak. We checked first thing. She's alert and cheering on whoever this bastard is. Warden says she's glued to the TV in the common room."

Artemis frowned. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or not that Opal Koboi wasn't involved this time. Part of him longed to have another crack at the tiny pixie-turned-human. He knew Butler also wished for another chance to bring her down – She had killed Julius and very nearly destroyed all of Haven, the fairies underground city that protected and hid them from the majority of humanity, and being locked up in Howler's peak, the high-security goblin prison, didn't alleviate the feeling that Opal had gotten off easily for her crimes.

"Were there any other details about what was left behind?" asked Artemis, crossing the room and turning on CNN on the widescreen TV that sat behind a wall panel on the side of the room furthest from the windows.

Holly nodded again. "Foaly said the message contained some mention of the Rosetta stone. He said it could be taken literally or figuratively, but he leans towards figuratively, because the stone is still in the British museum."

"Rosetta stone can be used as a metaphor to deciphering something," replied Artemis. "I have noticed that several of the older Egyptian monuments have several sections that are marked in Gnommish. Perhaps the object that was left behind will lead to Egypt. Either way, it will be a key of some sort to Fairy society."

"Exactly."

"And you want me to go get it?" extrapolated Artemis as he scanned the headlines that flashed beneath the news anchor's picture.

Holly smiled for the first time since the conversation started.

"You've still got it, Mud-boy."

"Tell me, does Commander Sool approve of this?"

Holly laughed.

"Not in the slightest, but Foaly suggested it and no one could come up with a better idea save a full blown retrieval unit and it's going to take 48 hours to clear one. Sool had the whole department against him – ten years and he still hasn't inspired any loyalty among his men. The only reason they don't fire him is because he does everything _right,_" said Holly with smirk as she glanced off screen.

Artemis felt a small smile quirk at his face. His distaste for the LEP commander matched Holly's.

"So _you_ want me to go to Paris and retrieve whatever this thief left behind."

"Actually," came a different, familiar voice over the connection as the screen widened. "_We _want you to do this."

Artemis grinned as the Ops booth at Police plaza and five more familiar faces came into view – Foaly the centaur; the LEP tech advisor and Haven's leading developer, Mulch Diggums; the kleptomaniac dwarf and Holly's partner in the P.I. business they ran, Major Trouble Kelp; famous for the name that he had chosen at his coming-of-age ceremony and his hands-on method when it came to police work, a grumpy looking Ark Sool; Haven's LEPrecon commander-in-chief and surprisingly enough, a stern looking Wing Commander Vinyaya of the Fairy council.

"Foaly, Mulch, Major Kelp, Commander Vinyaya – Sool," said Artemis, nodding to each of them in turn. Sool glowered at him. It was very clear that the tall (for a fairy) and pinched looking gnome would have preferred to be somewhere else.

Foaly clopped forward, his hoofs rapping on the Ops booth tiled floor.

"We're already prepping a Retrieval team, but Paris is a very difficult place to do a time stop – If I'm not there of course," he added with a whinny, before continuing. "We're lucky that the Louvre has the Tuileries gardens and lots of space to park a shuttle on the roof but with the Judicial police force's investigation going on, it'll be noticed if some of the DCPJ's officers go missing in time…."

Artemis nodded, understanding the implications.

"Can't you knock them out?" He asked, thinking of the time he had escaped Foaly's Time field and subsequent bio-bomb by drugging himself, Juliet and his bodyguard, the mountainous Butler some thirteen years previously during his initial scuffle with the fairies over Holly Short's kidnapping and the LEP ransom fund.

Foaly nodded, absently scratching his flank with a hairy hand as he deftly manipulated the Gnommish keyboard in front of him with the other.

"That's what we were planning, but either way, it'll look suspicious – but if you go in there, and find what we're looking for before the DCPJ stumble across it, we won't have to worry about it. I've just booked two seats on a flight to Paris. Butler will be coming with you, I assume?"

"Of course he will." A rumbling bass voice came from the doorway. Butler stood just inside the room's threshold, a cup of the Earl Grey tea that Artemis had asked for earlier in his hand. "What's this all about?"

"I'll explain in the car," said Artemis to him, before refocusing on the communicator "I'll get going right away. I'll report in once we touch down in Paris. Fowl out."

"Good luck Mud-boy!" called Holly from behind Foaly as the screen winked out.

"We'll need it, I think," muttered Artemis, flipping the phone shut and sliding it onto his belt.

Four and a half hours later, he and Butler were striding across the Louvre's enormous plaza towards the large, glass pyramid that rose stood in the center of the courtyard, its 666 pieces of glass reflecting the sky and the Louvre surrounding it in startling and fractured detail.

Butler had made a call to an old colleague of his whom now was a lieutenant in the DCPJ and had told him that he and a friend had uncovered some information about the crime that they would have liked to investigate to see if it held any worth to the DCPJ. Since this particular old colleague conveniently owed his life to Butler, it was little trouble for the man to arrange for them two have a few minutes to poke around the Salle des Etats.

Since Agent Gerould's superiors were desperate for any leads, they had agreed to Gerould's proposal. Butler pointed to a slim figure standing just outside of the main entrance as they approached it.

"That's him. Sebastian Gerould."

Sebastian Gerould was thin and quite short. He had light blonde hair, tinged with grey and pale green eyes that reminded Artemis vaguely of a cat's night eyes. He greeted Butler warmly and shook Artemis' hand, eyeing the small silver briefcase that Artemis carried in his other hand suspiciously.

"Investigative equipment," supplied Artemis and Gerould nodded.

"So, what is information that you would like to test?" he asked in English as he led them into the museum. His accent was light and had a touch of an Australian twang to it. Artemis couldn't begin to imagine why he had it, but if the man knew Butler, anything was possible.

"As you know, Mr. Gerould," replied Artemis succinctly, paying little attention to his grandiose surroundings in the atrium under the pyramid. "My family's dealings on the far side of the law have given us some more - _interesting_ - contacts. I received telling of a rumor that I thought was worthy of investigation. In the interests of my sources, I cannot tell you anything more."

Gerould nodded thoughtfully.

"Very well," he said, leading them across the brilliantly lit atrium and up a set of stairs to the arched gateway that led to the Denon wing. Two flights of escalators later, they were striding towards the Louvre's _Grande Galerie. _Besides the police perimeter that Artemis had seen around the museum, the two police officers standing guard at the entrance of the Louvre's most popular section were the first sign of any Judicial police activity that he had seen.

The Grand Gallery beyond was similarly devoid of life as the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows. Artemis noted that the containment gates hadn't been lowered. The security system didn't seem to realize that the most valuable thing that it protected was gone.

"There's a PTS team in the Salle de Etats already, but they have been told to take a break. You have free reign of the room, under my supervision, as long as you do not touch any of their equipment."

Artemis nodded, as they stared having expected those terms. As they began to make their way down the Grand Gallery, an angry voice rang out from behind them.

"_Agent Gerould!"_

Gerould winced as they turned around, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. Artemis raised his eyebrows at the sight of a pretty, slim young woman stalking down the corridor towards them. Her long dark hair was loose and trailed after her as she walked and she wore jeans, an olive coloured turtleneck sweater and what looked like leather boots. Her hazel eyes were narrowed and her mouth was drawn into a straight line, the severity of her expression at odds with the delicate-seeming features of her face. She looked ready to throw down.

"Ah…" Gerould raised his arms placatingly. "Mademoiselle Black - I thought you were busy in the curator's office."

"Don't you dare 'Mademoiselle' Black me, Gerould. I've had it up to _here _with all your condescending dipshit," snarled Black, making a vehement gesture somewhere above her head as she approached them. Artemis noticed that her French was tinged with a British accent and she walked with a very small, but distinct limp that favoured her right side. She was wearing a prosthetic leg under her jeans.

"Who _are _these men, what _are_ they doing here and _why_ the hellwasn't I notified?" Demanded Black angrily. Gerould sighed.

"Mr. Fowl, Mr. Butler, I apologize for not introducing you to Miss Andrea Black, the curator's secretary and -" he coughed slightly. "- personal assistant."

He turned to Black, who was standing still, with her hands on her hips and glaring at the short man with an expression of the utmost distaste.

"Miss Black, this is Artemis Fowl, one of Ireland's most prominent Art collectors and scientific minds and his associate, Mr. Butler,"

Andrea Black was unimpressed. "Art collector you say? How do we know you didn't take La Gioconda?" She asked, eyeing him critically. Artemis smiled. He couldn't help but see why the DCPJ treated this woman with some amount of condescension.

"If I took it, Miss Black, then why would I be here to investigate?" He asked politely, holding up his briefcase.

"Oh I can think of dozens of reasons, Mr. Fowl," said Andrea Black patronizingly as she raised a delicately arched eyebrow. "Perhaps you're here to sabotage the PTS equipment or maybe - recover something you left behind?" Her hazel eyes watched him carefully.

Artemis frowned. "Don't be ridiculous," he said coolly, meeting her suspicious gaze squarely. _Perhaps she knows something. _

Agent Gerould snorted irritably. "Miss Black, the DCPJ's investigation is not yours to command or instigate. You do not need to be informed of everything we do, even if the curator requested it."

Andrea turned back to Agent Gerould. "I supervise the day to day runnings of this wing. I know everything from which of the paintings are slated for restoration to which of the toilet stalls need more toilet paper. If you don't like the fact that the curator put me in charge of relations with the police, then you can go to hell and they can send someone in who's less irritating and insufferable."

Gerould rolled his eyes and stalked off down the hallway. Artemis, Butler and Black followed. "To think," he muttered under his breath to Artemis, "- that two years ago, she was a lowly art student at the University of London. She's a nightmare. One that we've been ordered to tolerate."

"I heard that," snapped Black, coming up behind them. "You're not the only one who was ordered to be tolerant, so quit your whining."

"Are you always this unpleasant?" asked Artemis innocently, glancing over his shoulder at her. Her eyes widened slightly and she looked slightly thrown by the question. After a moment and a stern look at Gerould, she shook her head.

The entrance to the Salle de Etats was roped off and Gerould unhooked it and stood aside to let Artemis, Butler and Andrea past. As he entered, Artemis took note to a folding table that had been set up in the middle of the room and on it, various pieces of lab equipment and evidence bags were strewn about.

Setting down his briefcase on the railing that kept museum goers a few feet back from the Mona Lisa, he opened it and donned a pair of latex gloves, before handing a pair to Butler. He offered a pair to Andrea, who unlike Gerould – who was standing by the door looking distinctly bored – was hovering over them, trying to see what was in the briefcase. She took them.

Looking up, he studied the Mona Lisa's case. It seemed relatively untouched, save for the fact that there was a gaping hole in the thick glass and the portrait itself was missing.

"There were no fingerprints," she noted, catching his look

Artemis nodded and dug around in his briefcase. Pulling out a finger print dusting kit and fairy-made substance sampler, he handed the items to Butler.

"Butler, could you dust the area above the case while I look around?"

"Yes Artemis," said Butler, taking the kit and crossing the room to the plexiglass case. Andrea made a small indignant noise that sounded half-way between _gyah!_ and _humph!_ and situated herself right behind Butler as he slowly ducked under the railing and popped open the little dusting kit.

Artemis smiled at his foresight and began to examine the room systematically, poking around in the corners, making his way from the Mona Lisa's empty case to the gigantic _Marriage of Cana_ which hung across the room. There was nothing out of place, save a variety of PTS investigative equipment, which he looked over. The evidence in the multitude of bags and containers seemed to be numerous hair samples and the odd small item. Nothing that appeared to be fairy related at first glance.

Never one to be daunted by the thought of a thorough search, Artemis returned to his briefcase. Glancing up, he saw that Butler had been brought a chair during the fifteen minutes he had spent looking around and was in the middle of both dusting the top of the case and lifting samples from the edges of the melted glass. As he was about to pull out his X-ray panel, the communicator on his belt began to vibrate.

With a sigh, he flipped it open and thumbed down the volume, before turning away and bringing it to his ear.

"Fowl."

"Artemis, just why am I staring at your ear?" Holly's indignant voice came over the line.

"For the sake of appearances, Holly."

"I see… Anyways, Foaly's been checking up on humans who have come into contact with the fairies. We just discovered that Spiro's been out of jail for about two years. Foaly can't find him."

Artemis frowned. "Do you think he's involved?"

"It's a one in a million chance, but Foaly and I thought it would be a good idea to warn you. We don't know what we're dealing with, and if it was Spiro, at least we'd know what we're up against. Have you found anything yet?"

"No. I have Butler dusting and taking samples and I did a once over of the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary."

"Seemed huh?" said Holly sarcastically. "Mud boy thinks there's something that was missed?"

"Yes. Either missed or taken as taken as evidence, then overlooked or perhaps…" he trailed off slightly as a new idea occurred to him. "Perhaps something was taken from the room before the police arrived. Excuse me for a moment Holly-" he mimed covering the communicator's microphone, knowing perfectly well that it would pick up everything in the room regardless and turned around, only to find himself face to face with a suspicious Andrea Black.

"Who're you talking to?" she asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow as Artemis reigned in his expression, so that he did not appear as surprised as he felt. He hadn't heard her approach. Come to think of it, he hadn't heard her footsteps when they had been walking through the grand Gallery. For someone with a prosthetic limb, she was remarkably quiet when moving around. Even his father, who was now as nimble as most boys when moving about with his prosthetic leg, tended to make a slight scuffing noise when he walked.

"A friend," replied Artemis. "May I ask who exactly discovered that the Mona Lisa was missing this morning?"

Andrea's expression flickered with anxiety. "Me," she said after a long silence.

"Did you find anything unusual besides the fact that the painting was missing?" asked Artemis calmly, already knowing the answer, even if she wasn't about to divulge it quickly.

"No - I-I just came in to turn on the lights and then I saw it was gone and I ran back to the curator's office and called the Police."

"Did you say anything to the curator?" asked Artemis pointedly. Andrea shook her head. "No. Henri wasn't here yet. He's never here as early as I am – or the rest of the staff for that matter."

"Why did he give you the job as his personal assistant?"

Andrea rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty, if you haven't noticed. He describes it as having a nice piece of art that works for him. I'd be out of here if my family didn't owe him so much, the old bastard. One would think it was a treat to work among all these works of art, but not with him around."

"Owe him?" Artemis was interested, despite himself.

"He's a great-uncle of sorts on my mom's side. Loaned my dad about fifty thousand Euro several years ago. Dad couldn't pay it back. It was either be sued out of house and home or I would work here for the next five years. You can guess which option was picked."

Artemis nodded, understanding the reason behind her tough-as-nails attitude.

"What did you find in here, Andrea?" he said suddenly, changing the subject back to what he was originally planning to question her about.

Looking startled, Andrea bit her lip. Glancing over at Gerould, who was perusing a painting by the doorway, she dug something out of her pocket and quickly pressed it into his hand. It was a small object, about the size of a matchbox and it felt suspiciously familiar.

Turning so his back was to the door, Artemis opened his hand and his heart clenched slightly. He was holding a copy of the Book.

* * *

A/N: hmmm... Interesting ending there, eh? ;)

I hope you liked it and please review!

I have the second chapter written, but I'm not updating this until I update my other two major fics; _Heirof the Pheonix: Fate_ and _Learning my way_,both of which have their next chapters about 50 and 75 finished respectively. I've also opened an account on DeviantART, the link to which can be found in my profile.

Mockingbirdflyaway


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"You know what it is," said Andrea, an accusing expression flitting across her face. Artemis said nothing as he thumbed open the tiny volume, looking for something that may have been added.

"I tried to see if I could read it," whispered Andrea, glancing at the Book, the curiosity in her face evident. "- but it all seems to be encoded. I thought it looked a bit like Egyptian or Chinese. I was googling the hieroglyphics alphabet in the curator's office when Gerould brought you up here. A lot of the characters looked like they were the same, but they didn't really make much sense – but then, I don't read Egyptian, so I suppose it shouldn't make sense to me."

Artemis stared at her for a second, unsure of what to say. Inwardly, he was slightly surprised at her intuitiveness and assumptions. She obviously lacked the brilliance it had taken him to translate the Gnommish, but she had recognized the similarities to Hieroglyphics and had known where to search for them. She probably never would have been able to translate it herself, but he didn't doubt that she would probably also have known who to go to for help.

"Where did you find this?" asked Artemis succinctly.

Wordlessly, Andrea pointed to the Mona Lisa's empty case. "It was just sitting there – as thought someone _wanted _the police to find it," she said quietly. "Something didn't feel right - so I – so I took it."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "You removed evidence from a crime scene."

Andrea paled. "No - ! Yes – I – I know I shouldn't have, but I got this hunch – you know – I just couldn't let just anybody from forensics take it."

"I see," said Artemis, turning the small volume over in his hand, then slipping it into a plastic, zip-lock bag that he had taken from his briefcase and tucking it into one of the inner pockets of his suit jacket. "You have an excuse then."

Andrea didn't hear him. "What are you doing with that thing?" She demanded, her eyes glued to the spot on his chest where the pocket was.

"Taking it with me," replied Artemis coolly.

Andrea gaped at him, at loss for words.

Artemis ignored her as he began to cross the room back to Butler, while bringing the fairy-communicator turned cell-phone to his ear.

"I take it you found what we were looking for?" Holly's wry voice came over the line once more.

"Yes," said Artemis quietly as Andrea regained her voice.

"_Now wait just a god damned minute!_" she cried, stomping after him. Artemis wheeled to face her as both Butler and Gerould looked up from their respective occupations/distractions.

"Miss Black," said Artemis in undertone, "You can let me take this or you can explain to Agent Gerould there exactly why you decided it fit to take evidence from a crime scene as well publicized as this one. You may as well stick out your hands for the handcuffs while you're at it."

"I – you-" sputtered Andrea, turning purple. For a moment, she looked quite ready to punch Artemis, and indeed, her fist twitched backwards before she reigned herself in. Artemis smiled, merely because he knew it would aggravate her more. Only Holly was allowed to punch him and only in the most drastic of circumstances.

Leaning close, she instead seized Artemis by the lapels of his jacket, yanking him uncomfortably close. "Don't mess with me Mr. Fowl," she hissed in his ear, the feel of her warmth breath against it being both oddly thrilling and thoroughly unsettling. "I know what you're doing and I'll have you know that you aren't going _anywhere _with that little book without me latching onto your skinny little ass like a bulldog does a mailman. I _know _you know what it is and I'm not letting go until you either tell me or produce the Mona Lisa to pacify me with."

Artemis heard Holly snort with laughter over the line. She had heard the entire thing.

"Skinny - little - ass…?" she choked.

"Shut up," he grumbled. Andrea's temper flared and for a second, he was certain he saw steam coming out of her ears.

"Not you," he snapped at her, stalling her explosion.

"Skinny… ass…" laughed Holly. "Finally someone's told _you_ off Mud boy!"

Before Artemis could reply, Andrea's arm flashed out and seized the communicator, wrenching it from his grasp with a strength he'd never have credited to her slight frame. Artemis nearly had a heart attack as she jerked it towards herself and snapped it shut, thankfully not noticing Holly's startled face on the view screen.

Before Artemis could snatch it back, she pulled the neck of her turtleneck out and dropped the device down her shirt. Since it didn't slide out the bottom, Artemis could only assume that it had to come to rest in her bra. Confronted with the mental image of his fairy communicator nestled between Andrea's breasts and the sheer audacity of the act, Artemis froze, his jaw hanging open in a most un-Artemis-like fashion.

Andrea smirked.

"This thing's important to you isn't it?"

Artemis glowered at her and said nothing. Andrea's smirk widened.

"Well guess what smart ass – _you're_ not getting it back. Unless either you or Mr. Butler want to go shirt diving – yet I have this odd feeling that decorum will prevent you guys from doing that."

She looked back and forth between the two men; one who looked as though he was torn between amusement and the desire to kill her and the other looking just ready to kill her and laughed.

"Oh, you two are just precious. Coffee's on me."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, grinning ear to ear.

* * *

"Butler, just remind me of _why _are we here?" growled Artemis, glaring at Andrea's slim form as she stood by counter of the small café two blocks away from the Louvre, paying for the three cups of coffee sitting on a tray in front of her. They were inside the small, ivy adorned and mercifully empty establishment, as all of its other patrons were sitting outside under an awning, enjoying the late May sunshine.

"We're here because she has your communicator down her shirt Master Artemis," said Butler calmly. "I could retrieve it, if you wish -"

"No no," muttered Artemis, waving him off. "We don't need any more complications."

"Or perhaps, you could retrieve it Master Artemis," teased Butler lightly, smiling knowingly at his longtime principal and friend. "Surely she'd be more willing with someone her own age."

"This is serious Butler," said Artemis irritably, rubbing his temples as he tried in vain to shut out the graphic mental images of himself going 'shirt-diving' as Andrea had so colourfully put it that had suddenly sprung up in his mind. Where were his meditation techniques when he needed them?

"I'm aware that this is a serious situation Artemis, but unlike you, I can also see the humour in it," replied Butler wisely. "Undoubtedly, Holly found it amusing also before she was cut off."

Artemis looked as though he was about to retort, but he was forestalled by a coffee cup that was plunked down in front of him.

"Drink up," said Andrea cheerfully as she handed Butler his cup of black coffee and settled herself in a chair across from them, sipping her mocha frappacino and smiling.

"Now who's this Holly person?" she asked pointedly. "I've heard her name twice now. Is she a consultant? A business partner? An old friend who's looking for something? Something Art related perhaps?"

Artemis and Butler exchanged glances. Andrea's guesses were far too close for comfort and they didn't have Holly, or any member of the LEP for that matter, around to mind wipe her.

"A combination of the three," replied Artemis coolly. "She contacted me with insider information about the theft and she wished that I would investigate. Neither of us have the Mona Lisa. We are trying to catch who is responsible."

"Excuse me? Insider information? Isn't that what the DCPJ's anonymous _tip line _is for?"

"The matter has to be handled delicately."

"And the Judicial police are anything but delicate aren't they?" concluded Andrea, grinning wryly.

"Precisely," said Artemis, extending his had for the communicator. "We have an understanding then."

Andrea crossed her arms. "You're not getting this back just yet. I want that little book back. It's far too important and intriguing for me to let it out of my sight."

"Unacceptable," said Artemis curtly. "You will return-"

"Unacceptable, my ass!" shot back Andrea, cutting him off. "It isn't _my_ cell-phone digging uncomfortably into my boobs! It's the book or the Mona Lisa; otherwise I'm keeping this thing."

Artemis eyebrows shot up as he processed the latest graphic mental image that Andrea had conjured for him. It took a good deal of self-restraint to keep his gaze level with her flashing hazel eyes.

He was suddenly struck by how similar they were to Holly's. The same shades of green and honey intermingling in the iris and the same unyielding, dangerous look that dared him to try something, anything. She had the same defiant tilt to her jaw and the same wry grin tugging at her lips.

It was as though they had been cast from the same stubborn mold, despite being thoroughly different species. They had no qualms about challenging and infuriating him and both delighted in throwing him off-balance. If anything, Andrea had been the first woman since Holly to do such a thing, although he doubted Holly would do something as audacious as stealing his communicator and shoving it down her shirt.

_No… Holly would fire up her wings and fly up too high for me to reach…too far for me to touch… _

Artemis pushed those thoughts away as he put his mind to work coming up with a plan. He knew he couldn't order Butler to forcibly retrieve the communicator, nor could he allow Andrea to walk away with it, because while it looked like a slightly-larger-than-normal cell phone, but the Gnommish keyboard and view screen that would be revealed once she opened it would be something of a dead giveaway that he was involved with the Book itself, however indirectly.

He could only come up with a few possibilities and none of them sat well with him.

The best idea he had, which involved Holly coming top-side and mind-wiping Andrea, was also the one that he knew would never work. The rest of the ideas went downhill from there, the least appetizing one being himself ordering Butler to forcibly retrieve the communicator, then making a hasty departure. He was fairly certain that that idea would backfire also.

That left the option of continuing his independent investigation into the disappearance of the Mona Lisa with her tagging along and undoubtedly looking over his shoulder and perhaps accidentally coming into contact with something else that was People-related. Something he couldn't blackmail her into silence over.

"My – colleague – and I require a moment to speak privately," said Artemis calmly.

"You need a moment to dig yourself a nice hole?" asked Andrea sweetly, standing up. Artemis shook his head and watched her as she strode across the café to the counter and ordered what looked like a chocolate muffin.

"She's a spirited one," remarked Butler sagely. He had thoroughly enjoyed seeing Artemis brought down a few pegs by someone who wasn't holding a plastic handgun that could injure his principal.

"She's a nuisance."

"A spirited nuisance then - One that has you cornered, Master Artemis, but not in any way that physical means can rectify."

"What do you propose I do then?" replied Artemis sardonically, his blue eyes narrowing as he glared at Andrea, who waved jauntily back to him as she slowly ate her muffin.

"Convince her to give it back to you."

"If you haven't already noticed Butler, I've tried that."

"Yes, but you did it your way."

"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Artemis.

"You didn't gain her trust," said Butler wisely. "You gave her no reasons to give it back to you on confidence alone. Women rarely do things just because you tell them to unless they are under your employ – and even then."

"No," said Artemis resignedly, thinking of both Holly and Juliet, Butler's younger sister. "They don't."

"You parents have been dropping hints that they wish for you to marry and provide an heir soon?" asked Butler suddenly. Artemis stiffened, his lip curling in distaste.

"You know very well that Mother has been dropping anvils Butler, which is why I moved to the penthouse - Surely you're not proposing what I _think _you're proposing. I have no interest in those matters at the present time," said Artemis firmly.

"But you given the matter some thought?"

"Of course I have. Mother's made sure of it by parading debutantes about the manor whenever I return there." Quite frankly, Artemis found it rather tiring. While attractive, these women were superficial to the extreme. The few who showed some signs of intelligence quickly lost it at the thought of marrying into such a fortune as the Fowl's. The thought of sharing a bed with any of them repulsed him.

"Then you can see why Miss Black would be an ideal candidate."

"Tell me you are joking Butler," sighed Artemis, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Hardly, Master Artemis, she is intelligent, vivacious, down-to-earth and spirited, not to mention she is attractive and appears healthy. At the very least, you will never be bored."

"She's missing the lower half of her left leg," As soon as the trivial objection was out of his mouth, Artemis cringed inwardly.

"So is your father -" said Butler, not appearing the least bit thrown by the news. "And your mother doesn't seem to mind the slightest."

"True, but you cannot expect me to willingly pursue someone as irritating and unpredictable as her," said Artemis disbelievingly. "She has redeeming qualities, yes, but those two first traits overwhelm them with an uncanny consistency."

"She has the communicator and she won't give it back unless you give her either a good reason or the Mona Lisa," said Butler pointedly.

"I'll find the Mona Lisa then," said Artemis. "Never mind it being one of the most valuable works of art on the planet, but if it will get rid of her-"

"Aha," said Butler suddenly, a mysterious smile playing across his face. "I see what is going on now."

"Do you?" muttered Artemis. "I see what is going on here too. She is wild, illogical and she will either end up robbing me of my sanity or mind-wiped. Preferably the latter happens before the former can"

"You're just irritated because she outmaneuvered you. I hesitate to say _outsmarted _you, but all the same - your pride took the blow Artemis, and therefore you wish to distance yourself from her as much as possible."

"That may be true," conceded Artemis grimly, determinedly not looking at Andrea. (She was chatting amicably with one of the women behind the counter and still working on her muffin.) "But I have no desire to pursue her any further than retrieving the communicator."

"She is a challenge Artemis. I was under the impression you enjoyed them."

"There are challenges and then there are pointless endeavors. Besides, I have a job to do."

"While I do not have much experience in combining work and pleasure, I see no reason why you cannot," replied Butler, his dark eyes twinkling in a way that Artemis didn't like.

"I have no use for such things. I enjoy my work. That is enough," snapped Artemis. "-and I don't see how spending anymore time around that woman could be considered pleasurable."

He shot Andrea another disdainful look. She saw it, pointed it out to her friend behind the counter and they both laughed. Suddenly Artemis felt a wave of heat rise up his neck as a sensation of burning anger and irritation wrapped themselves around his esophagus, choking him. She was _laughing _at him. She had the nerve to _laugh _at him. After all she had done already, she was mocking him.

"You are quite pink Master Artemis," commented Butler unhelpfully, looking amused Artemis ignored him. He had just noticed the Andrea had finished her muffin and was making her way back towards the table.

"I was just telling Jean how cute you look when you're mad – she agreed with me, by the way," she remarked lightly as she slid back into her chair. "Finished plotting yet?"

Artemis was completely thrown by that statement, his eyebrows shooting up. "Cute?" he repeated stupidly before he could stop with himself. Butler coughed.

"Yeah -" said Andrea, grinning broadly as she took another sip of her mocha frappacino. "You've got a scrawny ass, but with a bit of colour in those cheeks, you look quite cute, if I do say so myself."

Had Artemis been anyone else, he would have thrown up his arms in frustration and admitted defeat at the hands of this infuriating woman, but he was Artemis Fowl the Second and he was tired of being played with - Especially by someone of the likes of Andrea Black.

And while he knew that nearly every word of Butler's commentary was true, he was not about to accept it. He was not about to embrace the challenge of winning Andrea's confidence. He would get that communicator back and recover the Mona Lisa on his own terms.

* * *

Crazy pineapple lady: Hope I didn't disappoint you with this chapter laughs As for research, I did an exhausting amount (well, actually, no... I re-read the DaVinci Code and looked up pictures of the new Salle des Etats on the Louvre's website (They've renovated it) - It looks quite cool actually.

Ph33r the island ona: I've never read the Artemis Fowl files, but now I'll keep an eye out for it in Chapters and whatnot.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"There is _no _way in _hell_ I'm taking you guys to my apartment!" said Andrea hotly, glaring at the two men sitting across from her.

Then where do you propose we set up a base to search for the Mona Lisa?" said Artemis Fowl impassively, drumming his fingers on the table-top of the café table, his unruffled tone of voice belying that he looked as though he had just swallowed a lemon.

"Rent a hotel room – heavens knows you can afford it," she replied, eyeing their Armani suits and silk ties. "I, on the other hand, am _not _bringing home two strange men that I've known for a grand total of two _hours_!"

Artemis scowled and Andrea saw the corners of Mr. Butler's lips twitch upwards for a fraction of a second, making the giant Eurasian man go up a point on her 'likeable person' scale, despite the fact she had heard barely two words come out of the man's mouth. Still, Andrea got the impression that Mr. Butler enjoyed her antics as much as she did.

From the moment she had laid eyes on the pair back in the Louvre, she noticed the strange relationship they seemed to have. Despite the title of "colleague" that Artemis had used and the wide age difference between the two, Butler seemed almost subservient to Artemis. When she had first seen them, her assumption was that Mr. Butler would be calling the shots, but the minute that Artemis Fowl had opened his sarcastic mouth, she had been informed otherwise.

While she had been somewhat testy upon seeing Agent Gerould hurrying by her office door with the two men in tow, she now was only mildly annoyed at the waif-like police officer. The entertainment he had brought her in the form of Artemis Fowl almost made up for having to put up with his insufferable tinyness.

Artemis Fowl himself was, in her mind, an interesting enigma. He looked maybe a year or two older than her and so far, he had proved to have nearly as many buttons to push as Henri did. Granted, the man was much smarter than Henri. _Way _smarter. Problem was; he knew it. The fun part about his smarts was that he didn't like being toyed with. Andrea supposed he thought himself above such things. Or perhaps he was the one who did the toying usually.

It had been far too long since she had someone to torment properly. She could only go so far with Henri - She didn't want to get fired. None of her friends here in Paris were really good enough sports either. The ones she had had back home in Bristol had long since dispersed into their adult lives and the tight circle they had formed in Comp school had unraveled they drifted off in different directions – Denise to London, Sangeeta to Med school, Thomas to Oxford, Molly to the States, Dan to Saudi Arabia and her to Paris to work for Henri.

That had been two years ago.

Andrea had pretty much been on her own in Paris ever since. She rarely had time or the money to book a train ticket through the Chunnel back to England and the last time she had seen her father or her younger sister, seventeen-year-old Christie had been the previous Christmas. Officially, her hours were 7 to 7, but with Henri, Andrea felt more like an on call nurse. He had once called her at two am to declare that there was an emergency at the Louvre, and she had hurriedly dressed, roused her neighbour and borrowed his car, only to discover upon arrival that the coffee maker had broken down and Henri hadn't the slightest clue of how to fix it (He had failed to notice that Beatrice, his other assistant, had unplugged it so she could clean it).

Sighing with exasperation at the recollections of her boss' ineptitude, Andrea earned strange looks from both Artemis and Mr. Butler.

Smiling cheekily to confuse them more, Andrea idly traced the top of her cappucino cup. "So, how long have you two known each other?"

The men exchanged glances, and Artemis inclined his head slightly. Andrea raised an eyebrow as Butler spoke, his deep voice rumbling across the table like a distant foghorn. "I have known Artemis since his birth."

"Family associate then?" asked Andrea pointedly.

Butler nodded, though inwardly, he was sighing with relief. "In a manner of speaking."

"So you know all sorts of interesting things about Mr. Fowl?" said Andrea, with a barely concealed grin.

"Nothing that you would find terribly interesting, Miss Black," cut in Artemis smoothly. Andrea couldn't help but grin some more. Some time with Butler and she would hit paydirt, without a doubt. She may have been missing certain attributes, but being persuasive wasn't one of them.

She shifted in her chair and was rudely reminded of why she was in the company of these two men in the first place as the strange looking cellphone dug into her left boob. Grimacing, she shifted back. The cellphone dug in further. _Ow...that hurt..._

"I'll be right back," she said suddenly, standing up and weaving away through the tables towards the ladies room.

"Where are you going!" said Artemis loudly as he and Butler shot upright.

"Don't you rich Irish types ever take a piss?" called Andrea dryly over her shoulder. Risking a glance back, she smirked as she pushed open the door to the single room washroom, let it swing shut behind her and locked it. Slumping back against the door, she stuck out her lower lip and let out a long breath that made her bangs flutter. She stood like that for a minute or two, letting her mind settle, before reaching into her shirt and drawing out the cell-phone.

_I wonder what sort of interesting things Mr. Artemis Fowl keeps in his cellphone files._

With a grin, she flipped it open and gasped. Inside the grey titanium cellphone casing was a small screen, about the size of the average PDA screen. Below it was a minature keyboard, smaller than any other she had seen before. It wasn't the size that startled her though. It was the characters imprinted on each of the keys. Each little key had a symbol on it, virtually identical to the ones she had seen in the book ealier that day.

_Oh my god..._

Andrea's heart jumped to her throat as she processed the implications. He knewwhat that script _was_. He knew how to _use_ it.

_He was TALKING to someone with this thing for christsakes!_ _Probably making sure that he hadn't left behind any clues when he forgot that book! How could I have been so STUPID! He's behind everything! I gave him the evidence he needed to get rid of!_

"I need to get out ofhere," she said aloud, shoving the strange communicator back down her shirt. _Screw that little book. I'll call the police. There's no way to tell how dangerous these guys are... sure, Artemis doesn't look like he'd last two seconds in a fight but Butler... Butler's been places. _

Carefully, she eased open the door and peeked back out into the cafe. Butler and Fowl were hunched together, talking. Squinting at Butler, she saw that he wasn't actually looking at Artemis. His eyes darted around the cafe like a watchful predator.

_Family associate, huh? _thought Andrea, stepping out of the bathroom and heading in the direction of the counter, on the pretense of talking to Jean. When she was certain he was looking in the other direction, she sped up and went right out the door. Breaking into a trot, she hailed the first taxi she saw. Just as it pulled over, she heard a shout from behind her.

"MISS BLACK!"

Hurriedly, she yanked open the door, jumped inside and slammed it. "Allez mantenant!" She ordered, throwing proper grammar to the winds and startling the young cabbie. With a nervous glance at the two men sprinting up the road, he pulled onto the traffic. "Oui, Madmoiselle..." he said meekly. "Ou-est- ?"

"67 rue Poulard," snapped Andrea, glancing over shoulder as the taxi picked up speed and left Artemis and Butler behind.

"Ok."

The drive back to her apartment was silent and after telling the cabbie to take a detour, ("He's my obsessive ex-boyfriend," she had lied gibly to the cabbie, "I only just got away from him and I really don't want him finding out where I live now") she relaxed and resisted the temptation to take the little communicator out of her shirt. She'd examine it when she got home.

When the cabbie dropped her off outside her brick apartment building, she quickly paid him, glanced both ways, then sped across the sidewalk and up the front steps. It took her a minute to punch in her keycode and open the door, but once she was inside the cheerful apartment lobby, she didn't feel quite as ill at ease. She lived in a nice building. It was one of the few perks of working for Henri. Crossing the lobby and nodding to Leon, the security guard, she jogged up the steps to the second floor. Her apartment was the first door on the right and she quickly opened the door and darted inside. After bolting the lock and putting on the chain, she crossed her small living room, dropped her purse on the floor and collapsed on the couch.

Curiosity didn't let her rest for long and she drew the communicator out of her shirt, flipping it open. She turned it over a few times, but her pathetic amount of technical knowledge ensured that nothing unusual, besides the keyboard and the size of the device itself jumped out at her.

She studied the keyboard for a few minutes, then tentatively pushed a few of the buttons. After a pressing a green one in the upper right corner, the small device buzzed to life and the screen flicked a few times.

"Artemis?" a woman's voice came out of the device, sounding as though she was standing right in front of Andrea. "Artemis? You there?"

The screen cleared up and Andrea's jaw dropped as a woman's dark face appeared on the screen. Exotic was the first word that came to Andrea's mind as she gaped at the woman, who looked quite startled herself. She sported an auburn crew cut and her pretty round eyes were hazel. The thing that drew Andrea's attention however, was the woman's ears - ears that tapered back into fine points. _Elf ears..._

"D'Arvit!" said the woman loudly, her eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

"Who are _you?_" shot back Andrea, meeting the red-haired woman's gaze squarely. She willed herself to look unyeilding. Then, all of a sudden, the woman's voice changed as strands of alto and bass were wove into it. It was a voice of angels... beautiful angels... A heady, happy feeling suddenly welled in Andrea's chest.

"_Who are you? Where is Artemis?"_

"A-Andrea...Artemis is..." As soon as the words left her mouth, she suddenly remembered that angels didn't exist. They were figments of her imagination that had deserted her long ago and left her to her horrible fate. Andrea began to claw at the lightheaded feeling that had taken over her head, but it was like a wet blanket had been thrown over her head - smothering her. She felt herself sliding away into a state of happy bliss at the sound of the false-angel voice and the hypnotizing eyes. She couldn't... _no_... she was _angry_...angels didn't _exist... they never existed... Mum lied... there were no angels... they would never save me... no no no..._

"NO!" She wrenched herself away from the woman's absorbing hazel eyes and heaved the communicator across the room. It hit the wall opposite with a crack and dropped to the floor.

"WHO ARE YOU! WHAT DID YOU _DO_ TO ME?" demanded Andrea, her voice wavering. There was a sigh from the communicator. After a few moments silence, the woman spoke, her voice somewhat normal sounding again.

"I have to hand it to you," she said wryly, "I don't think I've met anyone besides Artemis who knew how to cheat the _mesmer_, although your way was a bit more unorthodox."

"Mesmer...like...you mean...as in..._mesmer_ize...?" stammered Andrea, staring at the little communicator, now to stunned to be scared.

"Yes," said the woman, matter-of-factly. Andrea waited for her to say something more, but the exotic woman didn't elaborate. Slowly, Andrea crept across the room and picked up the communicator, careful to keep the screen pointing away from her face. It hadn't escaped her notice how the instant that the woman's eyes had left her line of sight, she suddenly started feeling less light headed.

"What's your name?" asked Andrea quietly.

"Holly," replied the woman, "You can turn the communicator around, you know, I'm not going to try an mesmerize you again."

"So you're the Holly that Artemis was talking to?" said Andrea, ignoring Holly's comment about turning the small communicator around. She was nursing a healthy amount of paranoia and she wasn't about to throw it to the winds on the word of a strange woman who had tried to influence her thoughts through means unknown.

"Yes," replied Holly patiently. "I use Artemis as a consultant. I run a Private Eye business and we were commisioned to help find the Mona Lisa."

Andrea frowned. Maybe her assumptions about Artemis Fowl stealing the Mona Lisa had been wrong. Or this PI thing could just be a front for covering up their tracks. Paranoia was as much a burden as a blessing.

"What sort of credentials do you have?" asked Andrea suspiciously. There was a long silence before Holly said anything more. "I was a police officer."

"Dirty deals get you cut loose?" said Andrea snarkily.

"An asshole of a commander actually," shot back Holly hotly, a bitter note in her voice that rung true in Andrea's ears. She recognized it. She used the same tone when talking about Henri.

"Incompetant or just an asshole, period?" asked Andrea, her voice softening. Holly let out a long sigh. "Too competent, if you catch my drift. A stickler for the rules and a gun up his butt to boot."

Andrea snorted. "I know the type."

"I'd be surprised if there were any women who didn't," replied Holly wryly and they both laughed, despite themselves.

* * *

"Found it," remarked Butler placidly, his large thumb pointing out a name listed in the thick Paris phone book that Miss Black's friend Jean had loaned them. Artemis leaned over and smirked as he read the name and address nestled in the "B" section.

_Black, Andrea. 207-6531_

_67 - 21 Rue Poulard_

"We shall go hail a taxi then," he said, memorizing the address and phone number instantly. Standing, he led the way out of the small cafe, pausing only to return the phone book to the short woman behind the counter. Striding out into the blustery Paris afternoon, he drew his coat tighter around himself and waved down the nearest taxi.

After Butler had subtly checked the car for bombs and various other threats, they climbed in. The driver, a middle-aged cabbie with a receeding hairline glanced over the seat.

"Where to?" he asked genially in French and Artemis recited Andrea's address. The man grinned as they set off. "That's not too far from here."

Ten minutes later, they were striding up the front steps of a well-to-do brick apartment complex. The archetecture was a bit dry in Artemis' opinion, but it was a well made and well-kept building and he instantly found Andrea Black's name on the roster of residents. Given her sudden departure from the cafe, Artemis was willing to bet his life that she had opened the communicator and had seen the gnommish keyboard, intensifying his need to get it back from her.

Pushing the button next to Andrea's name, the speaker buzzed to life and ring tone sounded for several seconds before it was picked up.

"Hello?" Andrea's voice was wary.

"This is Artemis Fowl."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "How did you find out where I live?" she demanded angrily.

"It's called a 'phonebook', Miss Black," replied Artemis with a smirk. "Paris may be large, but doesn't have many 'Andrea Black's' within it's city limits."

"Oh..." replied Andrea and the speaker was quiet for a moment, save for a slight hissing noise that Artemis interpreted to be Andrea cursing under her breath.

"You've come to get this little video communicator thing back?" she said darkly.

"You've opened it," said Artemis, frowning.

"And established a rapport," replied Andrea sarcastically. "You couldn't have seriously thought I wouldn't open it."

"I assumed I would have had it back in my possession before you would have had a chance to examine it closely," said Artemis, feeling slightly puzzled by her rapport comment.

"You mean you thought that you could somehow entice me into giving it back. Too bad, so sad... _didn't work._ I don't do bribes. I'll do time for messing with evidence if that's what puts the DCPJ on your tail."

Artemis restrained the impulse to roll his eyes. "As admirable as your said incorruptibility is, turning yourself in would do neither of us a favour. You would be wasting your time - you know what the French Justice system is like. Guilty until proven innocent. And since you are guilty - you could be languishing in a cell for many years to come and the police would be after the wrong man. I did not take the Mona Lisa - I'm not that stupid."

There was a long silence and Artemis frowned when he heard what sounded like Andrea consulting with someone in her apartment. Had she told someone else about the communicator? Did she have a roommate?

Suddenly, the door buzzed and Andrea's voice came over the speaker. "I'm letting you in."

"That's probably the best decision you've made all day," remarked Artemis, pushing the door open. "Smart ass," spat Andrea as a parting gift of wit before she hung up.

* * *

A/N: Bit shorter than the other two, but it seemed a good place to end this. Thanks to aperfectattitude and The hobgoblin for reviews. I'll be posting a chapter of Learning my way next! 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Andrea's small apartment was cluttered, but gave off the sense that everything was where it should have be. The walls were a pale peach and framed paintings were everywhere on the walls. Some were replicas of famous works, while others bore unrecongnizable signatures. The furniture was eclectic, but the overall impression was that they had been chosen for comfort, rather than style.

The colours were all warm, muted tones of orange, yellow and brown, with a spashes of cherry red here and there and some cool blue on the rug. Quilts and pillows covered the large, squishy looking couch and in the corner was a small round table covered with a crocheted table cloth that had a half-dozen picture frames set upon it. Instead of a computer desk; a laptop, modem and speakers were set out on the coffee table, which had several pinkish rings on it, as though countless mugs of tea had been set down upon it. Overall, the whole apartment had a lived-in feel that seemed wholly unlike his penthouse above Dublin's harbour, with its dark wood paneling and neo-modern black furniture.

Despite himself, Artemis found that he liked the odd, warm feeling the place gave him the minute Andrea had opened her door. After flippantly apologizing for the mess, she ushered them into the living room and insisted they sit down before she bustled into the kitchen and set about making tea.

Two mugs of fruity tea were pushed in their hands moments later and Artemis took a sip. He found it far too sweet for his liking, but the aroma of strawberries and vanilla wafting up from the large mug was remarkably pleasant and seemed to complete the room's aura.

Andrea settled herself on a plushy green, four legged stool.

"Smart boys you are," she said in a deceptively mild tone that made it seem almost as if she wasn't boring holes in his skull with her hazel eyes. "I should've remembered the phone book."

"Oh, I doubt it would have occured to many, Miss Black," he replied calmly, meeting her gaze squarely. "So worry not. You are the same as most of the population."

"Look, just because you're smarter than me doesn't give you the right to insult me," snapped Andrea, tossing her head irritably.

"Well said," came Holly's voice from somewhere around Andrea. "You should listen to her, Mud-boy."

Artemis felt himself start slightly and a cold knot of dread suddenly began to tie itself in his stomach as Andrea reached into her pocket and pulled out the communicator. Slowly she held it up, the screen facing towards the two of them.

"Should I really?" said Artemis sardonically.

"If you want this communicator thing back, yes," said Andrea darkly. On screen, Holly made a vague shrugging motion that Andrea couldn't see, as if to say _It's her call. _

Artemis frowned. Now he understood by what Andrea had meant when she had said "Established a rapport". She and Holly had talked, and considering how Andrea kept the screen pointedly facing away from herself was telling - Holly must have tried to mesmerize her. Why Andrea still remembered who he and Butler were was something even he couldn't fathom. He didn't see any mirrored sunglasses lying about.

He needed to talk to Holly alone as soon as possible.

"So, is anyone here actually going to tell me the truth about what's really going on?" said Andrea suddenly, her eyes flashing. "The Mona Lisa is _gone _and I know you guys are some how involved, even if you didn't take it - I may not be a genius or whatever, but I'm not stupid. I can put two and two together, and right now, I really don't like the 'four' I'm coming up with."

"Can I consult with my associates?" asked Artemis, exchanging nervous glances with Butler and Holly. Andrea scowled.

"Consult them in front of me," snapped Andrea. "I'm not giving you guys time to make sure your lies all match"

"As you wish," sighed Artemis, rolling his eyes and wishing it wouldn't come to this. _"Your thoughts Holly?" _he asked in Gnommish.

Andrea's face contorted in outrage as Holly replied; _"I think we can trust her. She's one of the few mudmen I've met who didn't lose it when she saw my ears. I don't think she even realized their significance."_

_"She has a prosthetic. I believe that she's probably used to overlooking what she might call physical deformities - How did she avoid being put under the mesmer?" _

Holly shrugged helplessly. "_Initially, she fell under the spell easily. Then something changed - she began to fight it - harder than I ever thought possible. I had to stop or she'd have damaged both our minds. Then she managed to throw the communicator across the room. She hasn't looked directly at the screen since."_

_"I see," _said Artemis thoughtfully. Andrea looked ready to spontaniously combust and Butler looked politely puzzled. He had never managed to pick up more than a handfull of gnommish phrases.

_"Artemis... I should warn you - Something's hurting her."_

_"Hurting her?" _said Artemis, frowning. Holly grimaced as she tried to find a way to explain. _"I saw it in her eyes when she was trying to throw me off - something - something was there... grief... It's what made her fight. Whatever it is Artemis - it's old." _

_"I see," _said Artemis again, glancing at Andrea, who looked quite ready to throw down. Her grip on the communicator was so tight that her fingers had turned white and her expression told him without a doubt, the only reason he wasn't being castrated was because Butler was present. She hardly seemed one to be grieving.

But Artemis was truly a psychologist at heart (After a strategist, of course) and he knew pain could manifest itself in a variety of ways and something about the way Andrea's left leg was twitching made him scootch sideways ever so slightly. She was closer than Butler.

"Done your private chat?" she snarled. "Pray tell, why wasn't Mr. Butler involved?"

"He doesn't speak Estonian," said Artemis smoothly.

Andrea's scowl deepened. "That wasn't Estonian. Estonian doesn't sound like an Italian opera, nor does it sound like Chinese _nor _does it sound like Punjabi or whatever langauges were mixed in with whatever you were speaking. I don't speak a word of Estonian, but I'm completely positive that it doesn't sound like _that -_"

"What did it sound like then?" asked Artemis calmly, suppressing the surprise he felt.

"A bit of everything blended together. Call it Esperanto. Call it gibberish. Call it whatever the hell you want but it was _not _Estonian."

"Very well," said Artemis, "It's not Estonian, it's Gnommish - but the point is Butler has not had the time that I've had to study it."

"Nomish? Isn't that some town in Alaska?"

"You're thinking of Nome, Alaska," replied Artemis patiently.

"Is that where Holly is right now?" asked Andrea. Artemis and Holly exchanged glances. Holly shook her head.

"No," he said, brushing a non-existant piece of lint off his suit jacket. "She's underground."

"Like - you don't know where she is?"

Sensing an oppourtunity to satisfy Andrea's need for information without giving away to much, Artemis nodded. Andrea snorted. "How the hell can you trust someone who won't even tell you their whereabouts?"

"I don't tell him because he doesn't need to know," replied Holly, cottoning on to what Artemis was doing. "When we need to meet, we agree on a place and I make sure I'm there."

"And Holly has saved my life more than once," said Artemis calmly. "My trust in her is absolute."

Onscreen, Holly allowed a small smile to break through her expression of calm detachment. Since the screen was facing away from Andrea, she neglected to notice it. She did notice, however, Artemis faintly returning it.

"What are you smiling about?" she demanded, tapping her foot on the floor in a manner that was intended to convey utmost irritation. "Am I really that amusing?"

Artemis' smile morphed into a smirk. "Yes."

Andrea's eyebrows shot up and for a minute, she appeared to startled to speak. Recovering quickly, she quipped. "I wasn't aware that you were capable of such trivialties as humor."

Artemis' smirk took on a distinctly sinister quality. "You'd be surprised of what I'm capable of,"

Standing up suddenly, Andrea tossed down the fairy communicator and fled to the kitchen. The sound of several cupboards being thrown open and searched met Artemis' ears. Puzzled, he exchanged glances with Butler, whos hand began to drift towards his gun holster. Seconds later, Andrea reappeared with a small mesh bag of garlic in her hand. Without a word, she wound back and threw it at him with all her might. True to his training and well honed instincts, Butler dove across the coffee table and caught the offending bag before it could hit Artemis with one hand, his other instantly producing his Sig Sauer.

"Bloody hell..." whispered Andrea, staring crossed-eyed at the barrel of the gun levelled at her face. Her face had become as pale as Artemis' own.

Plucking the mesh bag from Butler's hand, Artemis eyed it with a distinctly unimpressed air. "Garlic, Miss Black?"

Andrea didn't reply. She looked far too preoccupied by the large handgun that was aimed at her.

"Butler," said Artemis quietly. Butler reluctantly holstered the Sig Sauer. The minute it was gone, Andrea sprung forwards and grabbed the communicator off the floor, where it had been flung when Butler had prevented the small bag of garlic from impacting with Artemis' head.

Straightening, Andrea glowered at the two of them. "What the hell was that!"

"I might ask you the same thing Miss Black," said Artemis, holding up the garlic.

"Never mind that, Garlic's _nothing _compared to an effing gun!"

"Yet you saw fit to throw it at me,"

"I was testing a theory," retorted Andrea. "No one could look that evil and not have some ties to _something _supernatural!"

"You thought I was a vampire?" chuckled Artemis, smirking even more. Butler glanced at his employer, startled by his overt display of emotion. Andrea, on the other hand, flushed and suddenly became very occupied with her feet. "Maybe," she mumbled.

"She's not too far off Artemis," said Holly suddenly, making Andrea jump and look at the communicator's screen. Just as quickly, she looked away.

"Is that so?" said Artemis archly, pointedly examining a perfectly manicured hand to convey his disinterest. Andrea suddenly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She chewed on her nails far to often for them to be seen in public.

"About the supernatural thing, at least," said Holly with a wink. "Even I've wondered about it, Mud-boy."

"Why do you call him that?" asked Andrea suddenly. Artemis looked as though he had walked off an Armani catwalk. Impeccably dressed and coifed, if it wasn't for the almost unnatural pallor to his face and the fact that he didn't sport the suave latin looks of most male Armani models, she'd have probably mistaken him for one. He _was _cute. In an odd sort of way. Still, the nickname 'Mud-boy' didn't suit him at all.

"It's a moniker that's stuck from our younger years," replied Artemis coolly, in a tone that told her that the subject was not open for probing.

"Ok," said Andrea, raising an eyebrow. "So what are we going to do about the Mona Lisa?"

"Foaly's done a trace on the message we received and he's just sent me the data," answered Holly, consulting something off screen. "While it was encrypted in gnommish, it originated -" her eyebrows shot up "oh my -"

"Where, Holly?" demanded Artemis, standing up and beginning to pace the length of Andrea's apartment. Both Butler and Holly could recognize that he was beginning to bring the full thinking abilities of his powerful mind to the forefront.

"Fowl Manor," replied Holly in a very small, disbelieving voice. Artemis stopped in mid-step and spun around to face Andrea, who was still holding the communicator.

"I beg your pardon?" he said quietly, his blue eyes narrowing.

"Foaly says the message came from the vicinity of Fowl Manor. Not in it, but from nearby. Someone hacked your Wifi network and sent the message remotely via one of the manor's computers. Whoever this is tried to frame you Artemis."

Artemis was silent for several minutes, thinking hard.

"They probably knew I no longer lived there," he said at last. "Otherwise I'd have noticed the intrusion."

"I don't know Artemis…According to Foaly, it was extremely well hidden for a human. Nothing for him, he insists - but you know Foaly."

"It worried him," said Artemis, frowning. Holly nodded. They were silent for awhile, obviously absorbed by their own thoughts. Andrea shifted nervously, while Butler remained as still as a statue of a meditating Buddha. She didn't doubt that the giant of the man understood the exchange, for his expression was grave.

Unable to stand the tense silence anymore, Andrea spoke up. "So… um… What are you going to do about this?"

"We have to return to the Manor," replied Artemis succinctly. "Butler, book three tickets on the next flight to Dublin,"

"Who's the third ticket for?" asked Andrea blankly.

"You, Miss Black. I was under the impression you'd want to 'latch onto my ass like a bulldog does a mailman…'?"

Andrea's eyes went wide and she sprung to her feet. "I have to pack!" she yelped and disappeared down the hallway. The sound of drawers and closet doors violently being thrown open soon met Artemis' ears.

Fifteen minutes later, she reappeared with a monstrous suitcase in one hand and a coat thrown over the other, along with a purse. Between her lips, she gingerly held several pieces of paper and what looked like her passport.

"The manor is well equipped for guests," said Artemis coolly. "You need not bring so much,"

Andrea dropped her suitcase. "Well… I guess I can leave my towels and stuff behind," she mumbled around the documents in her mouth.

Dropping to her knees, she opened the suitcase and began to rummage through it. Nothing in it had been folded, giving the suitcases a stuffed look. Within a minute, Andrea had tossed several of her things into the hallway and zipped the suitcase shut.

"I'll clean that stuff up when I get back," she said, standing and tucking some things into her purse.

"Very well," said Artemis. "Butler has called for a taxi. It should be waiting for us outside. Do you still have the communicator?"

Andrea nodded and patted a lump in the pocket of her jeans. "Holly said she had to go, but she'd contact us when we got to Fowl Manor."

"Very well," said Artemis again as he pulled open her door. "Let's go."

Andrea picked up her suitcase once more; stumbled, glanced down at it, then at her leg with a distasteful expression, then up at Butler, who had been standing beside Artemis, silent as an Easter Island statue and just about as big.

"Erhm…. Mr. Butler… could you please help me with this?" she asked tentatively, looking ready to take back her request in an instant. The big man glanced at Artemis, who inclined his head fractionally as he walked out of the apartment and down the stairs to the waiting taxi.

"Yes, Ms. Black." Picking up the case, he waved the young woman ahead of him out the door. Pausing only to allow her to lock the apartment door, they went downstairs, only to find Artemis already waiting in the taxi. Butler used putting the suitcase in the boot as an excuse to conduct his usual bomb check.

Within minutes, they were off.

* * *

Andrea's face was glued to the window of the Bentley as the gates of Fowl Manor swung opened. She mercifully said little but the window had begun to fog up from the moisture in her breath. She was obviously in awe.

"You would do well to close your mouth Miss Black," said Artemis, smirking. Most of the debutants never gawped this openly. They were far too well trained.

"You should have warned me about how big your house was," retorted Andrea, drawing away from the window. "Last time I was in a house that size was when I took a tour of Buckingham palace! How many people live here anyways?"

"My mother and father, and Juliet stays in the cottage when she returns from the States."

"Juliet?" asked Andrea, puzzled.

"My sister," rumbled Butler from the front seat. "She is due back tomorrow…"

Artemis smirked. Juliet had acquired a fiancée during her tour as the Jade Princess - a journalist by the name of Miles Lorne. He was of Irish stock, but his family had lived in the United States for three generations. Either way, Artemis didn't doubt that Butler couldn't wait to meet the man and for some vague reason, Artemis pitied him.

As the Bentley pulled up to the main entrance, Artemis was mildly surprised to see his mother coming down the front steps, looking resplendent in a grey shawl and a blue dress.

He was going to wait patiently until Butler came around and opened the car door, but evidently Andrea had different ideas. Pushing open the car door, she stepped out to the pavement, staring up the foreboding face of Fowl Manor with a wondering expression.

Angeline Fowl, who obviously had not been expecting a young woman to appear out of the Bentley, stopped short, her hand flying to her breast. "Artemis…?" she said in a puzzled voice, her tone sharp and her question clear. _Who is this girl?_

Startled out of her architecture-induced reverie, Andrea smiled and replied before Artemis could say anything.

"You must be Mrs. Fowl," she said cheerfully as she extended a hand, which Angeline shook delicately. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Andrea Black."

Looking as though she didn't know quite what to make of Andrea, his ever-gracious mother smiled back anyways. "Angeline Fowl… Artemis didn't tell me that he was bringing a guest."

Andrea ducked her head sheepishly. "You could say I was uninvited and a last minute addition."

"Uninvited…?"

Artemis sighed. "I was hired to use my consulting skills to help find the Mona Lisa Mother. Miss Black is Henri Sauniere's assistant - She insisted on supervising me, as I work outside the DCJP's investigation."

"I see," said Angeline Fowl in a soft voice, relaxing slightly. Artemis grimaced inwardly. She had obviously thought that Andrea was a girlfriend that he had neglected to tell her of, but now that the perceived threat of impending in-law-ness to a girl who looked neither wealthy, nor of high-class had been lifted in Angeline's mind, the two women chatted amiably as they mounted the front steps of the Manor, leaving Artemis and Butler behind.

"This is going to be one of the most trying investigations I've ever done," sighed Artemis. Butler said nothing, but Artemis could tell the man agreed.

* * *

Thanks to Evilchibiwolf, TAL, K , Ladyknight86, DarkShur'tugal (Thanks… that's probably one of the best compliments I've ever gotten!) and Crazy Pineapple lady for reviewing. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"So, Miss Black, where did you say you were from?"

Andrea nervously swallowed her mouthful of chicken before replying. "Bristol."

She was sitting around the Fowl's massive dining room table with Artemis, his mother, Angeline and his father, Artemis Senior. While their son left nothing to be desired, she found that both his parents were both quite easy-going and accepting. She had spent a good hour chatting with Angeline about the manor's architecture and history before Artemis had come to figuratively drag her to his study, where he had been tracing the hacker's trail with the help of someone named Foaly.

She was once again required to give the exact sequence of events to the man over the phone and the voice that replied had the same odd, multi-accented quality about it that Holly's voice had – Except for the fact that his laugh sounded almost exactly like a horse's whinny. It made her wonder what sort of company Artemis Fowl the Second kept.

Back at the dinner table, the two elder Fowls regarded her with polite curiosity while Artemis sat at the far end of the table, ignoring them completely as he worked on a small PDA.

"How many siblings do you have?" asked Angeline unexpectedly. Andrea choked on her next bite of chicken. "Tw- one," she said quietly, catching herself half-way. Artemis looked up from his PDA and both his parents leaned forward.

"Did you say two or one?" asked Artemis senior, raising an eyebrow.

"One," replied Andrea with a bit more force than necessary. "My sister Christie. She's seventeen. She's graduating this year -" Andrea shook her head with a small smile. "She has it in her mind to get into Oxford if she can win a scholarship or get a good enough job."

"Which field does she want to study?" asked Artemis' father curiously.

"Law. She's not sure if she wants to be a lawyer or a judge."

Artemis senior raised an eyebrow and nodded thoughtfully. "I'll have you know that I am one of the heads of an international scholarship fund. Is she a good student?"

Andrea's eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. "Straight A's across the board– she's way better than I was when I was in that comprehensive. I was never very good at maths and science – I suppose I could have done better, but I often chose my friends over my schoolwork."

Both Angeline and Artemis' foreheads creased as she said that, but Artemis Senior nodded again, a small smile playing across his face.

"Now there's something I wish I had done in school," he said in an ironic tone. "Allowed more time for friends." He shot a pointed look at his son. Angeline looked startled.

Andrea shrugged. "I don't regret spending most of my time with them either. I got into University alright and I work at the Louvre – what more could an art student want?"

"A different boss," said Artemis dryly, without looking up from the screen of his PDA and startling both his parents.

"Possibly," said Andrea with a grin.

Artemis Senior's eyes widened slightly. "You work for Henri Sauniere then?"

"I'm his secretary," sighed Andrea, rolling her eyes. "And personal maid it seems too. I take care of everything he couldn't be bothered to concern himself with. Thus, I look after everything in the Devon wing that isn't art."

"Sounds like Henri," replied Artemis Senior, shaking his head. "He graduated in my class from Oxford and I can't say I liked the man."

"What sort of work do your parents do?" asked Angeline, changing the subject.

"My father's a plumber by trade – He's tried a few business ventures, but all of them went under. I work at the Louvre now because Dad got his start-up loan from Henri," said Andrea, biting her lip as she remembered that all of the wealth surrounding her came from several generations of successful business decisions and the small, creeping feeling that she had had all afternoon of not belonging anywhere near Fowl Manor increased.

"How would your father know Henri Sauniere?" asked Artemis Senior curiously.

"He's one of my mother's uncles," replied Andrea, praying he wouldn't ask anything more along that track. Thankfully, the answer didn't seem to inspire any more questions along those lines from the Fowl patriarch. Instead, they came from Angeline Fowl.

"What does your mother do?" she asked with a smile and Andrea felt her insides turn to ice, the sharp edges tearing at things and events that she'd have rather kept locked away in her memories.

"My mother - is dead," She said finally, staring down at her plate as her voice caught in her throat. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"I'm sorry to hear that…" said Angeline softly. Dinner resumed and an uncomfortable silence reigned over the enormous table for several minutes, until Artemis made a small, oddly triumphant sounding "hmm…" noise from his end of the table.

Andrea's gaze darted over to him, as did those of his parents. His eyes rising to meet hers, he nodded. "I found what we were looking for,"

"Oh," said Andrea, forcing her mouth into a smile and nodding back, hoping to seem like she knew what he was talking about – when in reality, she hadn't the faintest clue. Computers had never been her strong point. "That's good."

"What is it, Arty?" asked Angeline curiously.

"I discovered a breach in the security network, Mother. I'm fixing it now," replied Artemis smoothly. Andrea raised an eyebrow, expecting the blatant half-truth to come under some scrutiny, but Angeline merely nodded and returned to her dinner.

"Is that why you returned to the manor, dear?" she asked sedately.

"Yes mother," replied Artemis.

Angeline shot Andrea an amused look. "And so Miss Black is here merely because she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Andrea swallowed nervously, but Artemis only said "Yes, Mother," once more and something about the way he said it bothered Andrea. The utter neutrality of his expression and voice sounded more like he was talking to a particularly annoying telemarketer, or perhaps a politician instead of his mother. Whatever he was hiding, he was hiding it from his parents also.

Yet it wasn't really that that was bothering Andrea. It was the fact that this seemed to be completely normal in the Fowl household. If she had acted so coldly to either her father or Christie, the other would have chastised her and got on her case about it until she apologized. If she had ever acted that way to Kevin or her mother, she'd have never forgiven herself.

It took far too long for dinner to be over with.

The minute that the maid had cleared away the dishes, Andrea had thanked the Fowls and fled to the room she had been given for the time being. It was a beautiful room, with dark wooden furniture, green linens and an intricate looking tapestry on the wall, yet it had little life in it and despite the temperature being moderately comfortable, Andrea shivered as she dug through her suitcase.

Stripping down to a t-shirt and her underwear, Andrea unstrapped the fibreglass and metal limb that had replaced most of her left leg more than seven years before. Grimacing, she quickly set it down in her suitcase and zipped it shut, before turning away and hopping across the room to the dark green rub that was spread on the hardwood floor at the base of the large, four-poster bed.

Dropping to her butt, Andrea winced. There was a reason she had had thick, fluffy carpets installed in her apartment and this was it, but since she had forgotten to bring her exercise mat, she would have to make do with what she had.

Spreading her legs out into almost a split, Andrea began to stretch. After a minute or two, she found her usual routine wasn't working to calm her down. Something was missing. After a minute's thought, she realized she didn't have any music blaring.

With a sigh, she reached for the bed and used it to pull herself up. It took her a few minutes to find a small, but expensive looking radio in one of drawers of the ornate wooden bureau across the room. Turning it on, she found a passable rock station and turned up the volume, before returning to the rug.

This time, the routine worked and she was well into the more difficult hand stands and floor stretches when she faintly hear someone clearing their throat.

Her head snapping upright, Andrea's gaze found Artemis standing at the open door, looking solemn.

"I knocked," he said simply. "You didn't answer."

Andrea gaped at him, her mind slowly wallowing through the numbness that had suddenly spread through her entire body. Her arms faltered and she fell out of the pose she had been holding as horror finally sank in. Instantly, the long, ragged scars that had faded from her notice ages ago stood out like brilliant white snakes wrapping around her full leg and right arm.

Shaking, she quickly wrapped her arms around her good leg, using her unscarred arm to cover the damaged one. She couldn't hide the stump though. The lack of a knee-joint made it impossible to draw it in and conceal the thigh that remained.

"W-what do you want?" she stammered, fighting tears as a knot formed in the pit of her stomach.

"My study is directly below this room," replied Artemis impassively. "There is a heating register below that bureau and in conducts all loud noises downstairs astonishingly well."

Andrea felt her face burn and she reached for the bed. "Sorry… I'll turn it down."

"Never mind that," said Artemis as he crossed the room and thumbed the volume dial down several decibels. Andrea pulled herself upright anyways and quickly sat down on the bed, pulling the comforter over her legs.

"You can turn it off," she said softly. Artemis did so, and then walked back towards the door. Once there, he paused with one hand on the door.

"You have admirable balance and flexibility," he said at last. "Have you trained as a dancer or perhaps a gymnast?"

Andrea didn't reply.

* * *

As Artemis settled himself in his plush, leather office chair, he revelled in the blessed quiet. The loud music had begun to filter down from upstairs almost twenty minutes before and after nearly ten minutes of forcibly ignoring it, he had made his way upstairs to request that Andrea turn it down. 

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate music, but when it was excessively loud and chaotic, it interfered with his concentration with an alarming regularity. He had once had to put up with a roommate at Bartelby's who was partial to bands such as Metallica and Greenday. It had been during that term when he had achieved his lowest grade in the history of his schooling – 99.8 on a math test in which he had forgotten calculate an equation's answer to the third decimal place.

He had knocked on her door numerous times, before determining she couldn't hear him. Pushing open the door, he had found her balanced on her hands as she brought her uninjured leg up and over her shoulder in an oddly distorted version of a "crane" yoga pose, while merely lifting the one that was missing.

He had been startled by the pose and her lack of clothing – a pair of panties and a t-shirt were the only things she was wearing to preserve her modesty- and astounded that she seemed to hold the position with little effort. Only the shaking of the stump that she was struggling to raise high enough match to the other leg and the tenseness of her slender arms gave credit to the immense effort and flexibility that was coming into play.

She held the pose for nearly a minute, before lowering her legs and stretching them out, then pushing herself up into another pose that seemed to resembled something he had once seen on a television commercial that had featured several breakdancers.

It had been then when the irritating music had finally broken through the odd spell that had fallen over his mind as he watched her. His curiosity had made him forget why he had come upstairs in the first place and now he could feel himself faintly regretting intruding upon what seemed to be a private exercise.

Her reaction to his presence had been unexpected however. Surprise, followed quickly by horror and shame as she had fallen out of the pose and quickly tried to hide the scars that had been left from what looked like a terrible accident. From what little he could see of the stump, the regular scarring lines suggested artificial amputation. Something had damaged the leg enough to warrant it being cut off.

What puzzled Artemis was that despite the fact that had he not been so observant and already well acquainted with someone who possessed an artificial limb, he would have not known she had had one, yet she seemed to still be ashamed of her injuries – an attitude completely unlike the one his father, Artemis Senior, had adopted. She obviously had worked very hard to conceal the presence of the artificial leg.

Andrea possessed a natural grace and balance that he had long associated with someone heavily involved in dance or gymnastics. While he had not instantly thought of her as a dancer (His irritation at her stubbornness had clouded his observation more than he cared to admit), now he was fairly certain she had trained extensively as one, if not after her accident, then before it.

_Another piece of an already puzzling woman… _thought Artemis with a frown.

* * *

Andrea crept downstairs the early the next morning, feeling rather alone in the immense and silent manor. She remembered where the kitchen was however from the tour that Angeline had given her. 

Pushing open the door, the smell of pancakes met her nose and she was surprised to find a tall blonde woman standing at the stove, deftly flipping the griddlecakes and manoeuvring them onto a tray in the oven set into the wall next to her to keep them warm.

"Um…. Hello?" she said quietly. The woman whipped around and her eyebrows shot up for a moment, before her heavily made-up lips spread into a mischievous grin.

"Don't tell me!" she chortled. "Artemis finally managed to get himself a girlfriend!"

Andrea's eyes widened and she frantically shook her head in horror. "No!"

The blonde woman threw her head back and roared with laughter, leaving Andrea to stand there, feeling rather puzzled. "You're face -" the woman managed to spit out. "Was absolutely priceless!"

When she had calmed down, she gestured towards one of the three tall chairs that lined the end of the kitchen island. "Come sit down and have a pancake," she said with a smile. "I do understand why you might deny such things – Artemis has always been too much of a cold fish – by the way, I'm Juliet. Juliet Butler."

"You're that big guy's sister?"

Juliet nodded. "You've met Dom alright – Miles and I weren't suppose to get in until noon today, but we managed to catch an earlier flight – Miles is still sleeping out in the guest house."

"Miles?"

"My fiancée."

"Ah… Mr. Butler said something about that yesterday."

"I'm not surprised - " said Juliet as she plunked a plate stacked high with pancakes down in front of Andrea. " Dom's been itching to get his hands on Miles, and while he might not be the strongest or the fastest bloke on the planet, he's got some tricks up his sleeve."

"Ah," said Andrea noncommittally, reaching for the butter and the syrup. "These smell good."

"Thank you," said Juliet with a smile as she finished up a few more of the pancakes and put them in the oven, before sliding into the seat across from Andrea with another plate stacked high with pancakes.

"Dare I ask, but how did you and dear _dear_ Artemis cross paths? I don't think he's ever brought a girl home. Mostly, I think he moved to the penthouse to get away from them."

Andrea's eyebrow shot up. "He's never brought any girls home?" she said incredulously.

Juliet grinned and shook her head. "I told you he was a cold fish. I come visit every year and I've watched him ignore more debutants than most men ever get to meet – it's driving his poor mother batty. She wants grandchildren."

"Is he gay?" asked Andrea curiously.

Juliet shook her head. "Nah… I think he's just got way-to-high standards. That, or he's just doing this for kicks - with Artemis, you never really know – and I've known him since he was a kid. I have the ability to not take him seriously, mostly because all I have to do when I look at him is remember what he was like in diapers or his face when Holly smacked him last."

Andrea raised an eyebrow. "You know Holly?"

Juliet looked startled. "_You _know about her?"

"Uh… I talked to her…sort of," replied Andrea. Juliet's eyes narrowed and Andrea quickly recapped the events of the past twenty-four hours. When she reached the part of how she had stolen the communicator-cell phone and shoved it down her shirt, Juliet fell off her chair laughing.

"You should win a medal!" she wheezed as she picked herself off the floor, still chortling. "I wish I could have seen his face!"

Andrea grinned at the memory of his shocked outrage, the most expression she had ever seen on the man's impassive visage.

"It's what I used to do to my guy friends," she shrugged. "They were all gentlemen."

Juliet grinned. "I wish I could say I was that sneaky – but mostly, it was that any guy who messed with me got thrown across the room."

"Is that so?"

Juliet nodded and she flexed an arm, revealing a considerable bicep. "Yes… I'm the wrestler Jade Princess. Mess with me and you're toast."

Andrea snorted. "You're not serious."

"Perfectly."

Andrea gaped at her. "Wow…"

Juliet shrugged and went to work on her pancakes. "It's not a huge deal," she said after swallowing a mouthful of syrup-smothered pancake. "What sort of work do you do?"

Andrea let out a bitter laugh. "I work at the Louvre."

"It may be just me, because I'm not so big on the artsy stuff – but you said 'The Louvre' like it was a bad thing…" said Juliet, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh…. Working at the Louvre is grand enough, yes. It's just the man I work under leaves much to be desired." Said Andrea with a shrug.

"Ah…" replied Juliet with a nod. "Not good enough?"

Andrea sighed. "I wish… I've proved myself reliable enough to look after everything in the wing that isn't art. Henri's probably completely lost without me at the moment – especially with the Mona Lisa missing. I should probably call Barbara and tell her I'm in Ireland - She'll hate me making her be the one who has to tell Henri, but I'll buy her lunch for a week when I get back."

"Is that what you and Artemis are doing? Trying to find the Mona Lisa?" asked Juliet.

Andrea shrugged. "Supposedly. That Holly person said that someone got a ransom note for it and that it came from here – but both Artemis and that other guy – whatshisface - "

"Foaly?" supplied Juliet with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah – him – said that the manor's network had been hacked – so that's why we're here."

"Do you know if they've traced it?" asked Juliet curiously. Andrea shrugged just as Artemis' voice came from the doorway. "We did."

Andrea jumped as though a live wire had struck her and she shrank in her seat.

"Oh… is that so?" she said quietly.

"It was from a powerful laptop with an 'untraceable' IP," replied Artemis with a smirk as he breezed into the kitchen.

"Welcome back," he said cordially, nodding to Juliet as he unobtrusively helped himself to the pancakes in the oven.

Juliet grinned. "Andrea was telling me about the interesting day you had yesterday."

Artemis paused slightly. "I see," he said neutrally, before turning to Andrea. "I assume from Juliet's expression that you left out none of the details?"

Andrea shook her head without looking up from her pancakes. Juliet made a puzzled noise, as though she couldn't understand why her new friend's good humour had evaporated. Andrea shot her a quick _Don't ask _look, before quickly finishing up her pancakes and retreating back to her room.

* * *

A/N: I have this overwhelming feeling that I need to prove I'm actually writing. So here's the next chapter. Thank you everyone for reviewing! Progress is slow on Learning my way and Heir of the Phoenix.

Review please!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: This is mostly to prove I'm not dead. And no, Cause and Effect is not finished yet :( I still have to read The Lost Colony. Perhaps that'll get me working on fanfiction again, but for now, I've mostly been working on my novel.

Also, a profound thanks to everyone who has reviewed over the past few months. Each review usually spurred me to open up the "Artemis Fowl" folder and add a few paragraphs, lol. hugs you all

Chapter 6

It didn't take long for Andrea to realize that hiding out in her room wasn't going to help her or Artemis find the Mona Lisa any faster, though she still didn't feel very willing to go downstairs and face actually the man.

It was then that Artemis' words from the night before came back to her.

"_There is a heating register below that bureau and in conducts all loud noises downstairs astonishingly well."_

Andrea turned to study the bureau, which in reality was merely an expensive looking writing table with several drawers. She could see it had been placed deliberately over the heating register so that those writing there would have the benefit of warm air wafting up and around their legs.

Grinning, Andrea stood up, crossed the room and pulled the chair away from the bureau, before crouching down and sliding on her butt into the space normally meant to accommodate one's knees. _Perhaps this thing conducts sound upstairs also…_

"I've found a match…" A rather nasal voice wafted up through the register. Andrea recognized that it belonged to the man called Foaly. It was faint, but perfectly understandable. Andrea wondered if Artemis had him on the speakerphone.

"Oh?" came Artemis' voice, sounding curious. "Human or Fairy?"

Andrea blinked and forcibly shook her head. _Is he on crack? Isn't that some sort of nick-name for the stuff? No way Artemis could have said that while sounding so serious without it being drugs – that's probably why he's got like no friends! He's a drug dealer! Good god – I've gotten myself involved with a drug dealer _

Shoulders slumping, Andrea ran a hand through her hair. So distracted by the thought of being involved with someone as dangerous as a dealer nearly made her miss Foaly's reply.

"Fairy – A Dwarf to be precise, but…" Foaly's voice trailed off and he sounded troubled. "This can't be right."

"What can't be?" said Artemis sharply. Andrea could hear his footsteps. He was pacing. Andrea wondered why he neither he nor Foaly were sniggering. The idea of Artemis talking about anything to do with Fay without sounding stiff was enough to make Andrea giggle. Surely the business mogul didn't _believe _that there could be fairies.

There was a snort of disgust from the register. "The LEP database says the prints are Mulch's."

"Impossible!" snapped Artemis. "He was right next to you yesterday."

"My computer's are never wrong Mud-boy. If they say the prints are Mulch's, then they're Mulch's, but - "

"But that doesn't mean Mulch left them there," finished Artemis, sounding pensive. "Where is he right now?"

"Atlantis." Replied Foaly. "He and Holly were called out on an urgent case last night."

"Really? What sort of case?" asked Artemis curiously. Andrea felt her eyebrows go up. Surely 'Atlantis' was a code name for some sort of secret drop point.

Foaly snorted dismissively. "Some rich old pixie misplaced a cat probably. They ran out of here in a hurry after Holly got off the phone."

"So you don't know what they're doing," said Artemis in calm voice. If Andrea didn't know better, she would have assumed he was being accusing.

"It's not LEP business," replied Foaly smartly. Artemis let out a skeptical noise.

"And you can't just call up Mulch's locator?" he replied. "That's not like you Foaly."

"I'm doing that now. I told you they're in Atlantis… and…" There was a long pause from downstairs. Finally Foaly's voice came through, sounding rather choked. " –They're not in Atlantis."

"Are they in Haven, or perhaps enroute?" asked Artemis, sounding concerned. Foaly said nothing for nearly a minute and Andrea assumed he was checking whatever computer equipment he had at his disposal and when he spoke again, his voice sounded almost panicky, which didn't seem to be a typical thing for the man.

"They're not in Haven Artemis… They're not anywhere in the Lower Elements - Or in the chutes"

"Are you sure Foaly?" Artemis sounded stern. "I'm calling Holly's cell phone right now."

"Positive," replied Foaly, his nasal voice anxious. "and Holly's cell signal isn't on the grid either. It's been turned off or taken out of Haven. I can't search for her elsewhere. Sool is right outside my door for his weekly inspection. I'll contact you once I've gotten that damn gnome out of here."

"Alright. Contact me once he's out."

The connection must have been killed, as there were no more voices wafting up from downstairs. She could hear Artemis pacing, but his footsteps did nothing to explain the madness that she had overheard. It sounded as though when Artemis said Holly was underground – he had meant it literally.

_Come to think of it… _thought Andrea. _There was something pretty strange about Holly. _

She couldn't put her finger on it though. Something about the woman's exotic appearance niggled at the back of her mind. Perhaps it was the red hair paired with the darker skin… but no, with multi-ethnic marriages nowadays, anything was possible appearance-wise. A girl she had known back at her comprehensive had been black, with the beautiful chocolate brown skin and dark dark hair, along with bright green eyes. The whole look had been stunning and Andrea had secretly envied the way that boys had always done double-takes when her friend had walked into the room.

Her ears! There was something strange about Holly's ears. They were far too…. Pointy? Andrea frowned as she crawled out from under the desk and pulled herself upright with the help of the chair that she had pushed out of the way.

Crossing the room, she quickly pushed open the door and made her way downstairs, still running over ways that pointy ears could be explained. Considering Fowl and that Foaly person had already identified them as fairy, Andrea found that her mind refused to provide any other good alternatives explanations.

As she neared the door to Artemis' study, she gave up fighting the concept of fairies.

_Ok. Get a grip Andrea. If there are really fairies - that would be really cool. If there are no fairies and he's a drug dealer, I will run away very fast. Artemis is in no shape to keep up with me, even with my leg…but wait… there's that Butler guy - damn it!_

Reaching the door, she reached out to knock, but hesitated just before her hand was about to descend. Steeling herself and taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles lightly on the oak door and waited. Within minutes, it swung open noiselessly.

"Yes Ms. Black?" Artemis' expression was politely curious and betrayed nothing of the worry she had heard in his voice moments earlier.

Andrea opened her mouth to speak, only to find that words failed her. Her chest had constricted and she couldn't seem to draw in another breath or think another coherent though the nervous haze that had enveloped her brain.

After a few humiliating moments of fish-like mouth movements, Artemis quirked an eyebrow. "Do you have something to ask or tell me Miss Black?"

Andrea gulped. "Have you made any progress with the Mona Lisa?" she whispered, while mentally kicking herself for chickening out.

Artemis stepped back and motioned her into the room. Quickly tiptoeing past him, Andrea nearly forgot why she was there when she caught sight of the impressive array of computer screens, servers and interface stations which contrasted strangely with the dark wood panelling of the room and the shelves of old books that adorned the wall opposite.

"Cool!" She enthused, crossing the room to examine the computers. "This looks just like something right out of Star Trek Enterprise!"

"I can't say I watch much television," replied Artemis curtly, closing the door as Andrea spun around on her heel, looking like she wanted to examine everything at once.

"Oh," she said, craning her neck back to study the ornate mouldings she had just noticed on the ceiling. "I don't watch that show, but my sister adores it. She's a right old Trekkie. I got her the entire fourth season of _Voyager_ for Christmas."

"Indeed," said Artemis tonelessly, settling himself at his desk. He eyed the chair across from him pointedly until Andrea took the hint and sat down.

"To answer your question, Miss Black, I have gotten some leads on the Mona Lisa case, but I have yet to investigate them thoroughly with my colleagues. Something else came up and I have been slightly distracted."

"Holly's missing," blurted Andrea without thinking.

Artemis' eyes widened for a millisecond, alarm overriding his self-control for a moment. As fast as it appeared, the panic vanished, leaving Andrea to wonder whether she had really seen it.

"Indeed," he said again, eyeing her. "Do you care to tell me how you found out?"

Wordlessly, Andrea pointed at the ceiling above his desk, where a heat register was blowing warm air into the room. Artemis glanced up at it and his lips twitched into what might have almost been a smile.

"It conducts noise upstairs astonishingly well too," said Andrea, mimicking his tone from the night before. Artemis nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you," he said.

"Huh?" Andrea stared at him.

"You helped me find a potentially damaging security breach in my study. I shall have Butler remedy it immediately."

"You never noticed that there was a heating register directly above your desk?" replied Andrea incredulously, scratching her head.

"I had it specially installed there," retorted Artemis, sounding slightly insulted. "I was well aware of its existence. It just never proved to be a liability before, as the guest room you are using now was once my room."

"I see," replied Andrea with a frown. _Artemis slept in that bed? Oh… lovely. _"Why don't you use it anymore?"

"I have the penthouse, and when I moved out, Mother gave me some larger rooms in the south wing."

"The big boy needed bigger rooms," muttered Andrea under her breath.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing – what happen to Holly? I heard you say that she and some other guy were missing. He had a really funny name… Muddy or something."

"Mulch," supplied Artemis stiffly, somehow managing to look paler than he already was. "Mulch Diggums. He is another business associate of mine."

"One who goes around stealing great works of art for you!" snapped Andrea, jumping to her feet. "You found his prints when there were none to be found! I knew you had something to do with this!"

Artemis' lips thinned as he glared at her from across the desk. "Sit down," he said, his voice bearing a hint of steel.

"Go to hell," snapped Andrea defiantly, turning on her heel and heading towards the door. "I'm calling the police."

Artemis moved faster than she had ever thought possible. Within the space of two seconds, he was up and around the desk, catching her arm and pinning her against the partially open door, making it slam shut. Andrea let out a gasp as all the air was forced out of her lungs by the impact.

"Let me go!" She hissed, uncomfortably aware of the fact that they were chest to chest and that his arms had hers pinned to the door above her head.

"No," snapped Artemis, irritation beginning to leak though his façade. Andrea struggled to move and growled incomprehensively when Artemis leaned forward, taking advantage of the fact that he was a good five inches taller and at least thirty pounds heavier. In a fair fight, she'd have tossed him, but now, he was using his weight to his full advantage. She couldn't move and it was getting harder to breathe.

"Let… me… _go…"_ she said, feeling her cheeks grow warm.

"Not until you listen without jumping to absurd conclusions," retorted Artemis, his words sounding laboured also. Andrea felt her lip curl and she drove her knee upwards. Artemis parried it with his own, wedging it between her legs and manoeuvring his other leg so that she couldn't go for his crotch again.

"You're fast," she allowed grudgingly.

"I almost died once because I wasn't. I've worked hard ever since to remedy that," replied Artemis coolly. "Of course, it helps me ensure that I continue the Fowl line. I can't have women who find me irritating eliminating all chances of procreation."

"Funny you're mentioning sex at a time like this," snapped Andrea irritably, her cheeks turning a blazing red. Artemis looked down and suddenly realized what a compromising position they were in. Part of his decorum commanded that he pull away immediately, but then his intellect kicked in. He had to keep her still, or she would grievously injure him, run away or, more likely, do both.

He glanced over his shoulder at the intercom on the wall over two metres away. Too far to summon Butler's help with the situation. He would handle Andrea on his own.

She shifted again, trying to gain leverage. Artemis put more weight on her, stifling her movement even more. She didn't stop trying though.

Finally, Artemis had had enough. "You really should stop trying to injure the Louvre's most infamous benefactor," he sighed. Andrea snorted. "Benefactor, my ass!"

"I am Robin D'Art," replied Artemis, using the nickname that the newspapers had given him years before. A rather crude play on Robin Hood, but accurate all the same.

Andrea froze, her mouth falling open. "_What!"_

"Dare I ask now, Miss Black – Why would I want to steal something from the museum that I have so often contributed too?"

Andrea stared at him disbelievingly. "What? You can't be serious!"

Artemis smiled thinly. "I'm perfectly serious."

"No… you can't be. No way. You can't be Robin D'Art." She was shaking her head, her jaw slack and her eyebrows raised as she stared unfocusedly at something over Artemis' shoulder and he could feel the tension in her body melt away. "You can't be…"

"Why not?" asked Artemis, feeling slightly piqued.

Andrea shrugged limply. "It's just… not…_possible_…"

Artemis raised a delicately arched eyebrow and slowly pushed himself upright.

"Come with me," he said, taking her by the hand and leading her out of the office. Obediently, she followed, far too curious to put up a fight.

Leading her upstairs, he showed her into a bare room, its only feature being a spotlighted portrait of his father, Artemis Fowl senior.

"Don't tell me," she said, coming to a halt. "There's a safe behind there."

"Indeed there is," replied Artemis, crossing the room and pulling what looked like a needle out of his pocket. He swung the portrait sideways and Andrea couldn't suppress the laugh that welled up inside her when she saw that it was on hinges.

"This is just like a movie!" she snorted, stepping up behind Artemis and trying to peer over his shoulder as he expertly spun the dial for the safe that was indeed behind the portrait. Artemis blocked her view with a mere shrug of his shoulders and before long, he swung the door of the thing open noiselessly.

It took Andrea a moment to realize what she was looking at.

The painting was swathed in clear, protective film and set in a rather unassuming wood frame, but they did nothing to detract from the pensive atmosphere of the painting's subjects. An exhausted looking woman, who Andrea immediately recognized from her position in the painting as the Virgin Mary, was crouched awkwardly on the ground next to a little baby Jesus. An ox looked over Mary's shoulder and four men surrounded her. Above them, an angel clutching a white banner hovered, pointing heavenwards.

But the style was unmistakable.

"Caravaggio…" she whispered, staring at the painting in wide-eyed astonishment. "This is Nativity with St. Francis and St. Lawrence!"

A smirk had appeared on Artemis face. "It is."

"But….but… it was stolen in the sixties! How the hell did it get here?" gasped Andrea, staring up at him.

Artemis couldn't help but look pleased with himself. "Butler and I liberated it from a private deal between some of the more infamous art connoisseurs. I'm planning to return it to the Church of San Lorenzo next month."

"By regular post, no doubt," said Andrea with raised eyebrows. Artemis inclined his dark head. "Yes."

"Boy… You have no idea what Henri would give to find out who you are," she murmured, stepping closer to the painting to examine the writing on the angel's banner.

"I assume you won't tell him?"

"'Course not!" snorted Andrea with a grin, her nose almost touching the painting's protective cover as she studied it with an appreciative eye. "But do send something to us again soon. Henri works himself into a tizzy. It's hilarious."

"I'll consider it," replied Artemis, nodding. Stepping forward, he let his eye be drawn into the dark painting. Just as quickly, it was distracted by the glimmer of Andrea's brown hair in the spotlights as she shifted to look at something else in the painting. Noting a sheen of oil on roots of her hair, he surmised that she probably had not showered for a few days. Strangely enough, he hadn't noticed any smells that he had felt adverse towards when he had pinned her to the door. Just a hint of a sweet musk that had both clouded and cleared his mind at the same time.

Suddenly, Andrea stepped back, catching his foot under her left heel - the artificial one.

Choking back a shout to a vehement hiss, Artemis jumped back and clenched his fists as Andrea whirled around, looking mortified.

"Sorry!" she yelped. "I didn't know you were there! Ohhhhh…."

"It's alright," replied Artemis through clenched teeth, gingerly putting weight on the appendage and barely concealing a wince. "No harm done."

Andrea let out a disbelieving snort. "Sit down and let me have a look at it."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Right now? Where?" he asked. Andrea rolled her eyes. "On the floor, where else?"

Artemis glanced at the floor disdainfully, looking as through he didn't particularly want to go anywhere near it. Andrea let out an impatient snort.

"It's a just a floor Artemis. One of the cleanest I've seen and unless your high-bred Irish ass is too good for it, you're going to sit on it."

Not liking the look on her face, Artemis sat. In the two seconds it took for Andrea to kneel down, he decided that it was high time to buy some thick rugs for all the flagstone-floored rooms in the house.

Pulling his foot into her lap, Andrea wasted no time in pulling off his loafer and sock.

"Hmmm… impressive," she muttered, probing his toes. "There's no smell. Any other guy, and I'd probably have been knocked flat."

"I take personal hygiene seriously," replied Artemis, trying to ignore the strange tingling feeling that her fingers left behind whenever she moved them.

"Well, you're the one of few guys I've met who remembers that he's got feet and that they require maintenance - Does this hurt?" she continued, pushing his toes back slightly.

Artemis winced. "Somewhat."

Andrea clicked her tongue. "You're going to have some bruising and from the looks of it, you'll have a nice blood blister under the middle toe in a day or so, but otherwise, everything looks relatively uncrushed – however -" she paused and something seemed to occur to her, causing a mischievous grin to spread across her face.

"Miss Black?" said Artemis warily, suddenly feeling rather alarmed. Andrea grinned at him and quickly brushed her fingers down the length of the sole of his foot.

The result was explosive. Artemis let out a startled yelp and convulsed as the sensation seared through him.

"What was _that!" _he demanded indignantly, tugging his still tingling foot away from her.

Andrea stared at him. "You've never been tickled?" she laughed disbelievingly.

"I – no -" started Artemis, feeling strangely at a loss for words as he watched her dissolve into a helpless fit of giggles. It took her a few moments to calm herself, but when she did, she launched herself at him without warning, catching his foot and subjecting him to the same cascade of spine tingling shivers, courtesy of her nimble fingers. Strange, giddy laughter welled up in his throat and it took all he had not too succumb to it.

Finally, she stopped, smirking as he struggled to regain control of his shaking limbs. "Thrilling?" she asked.

Artemis scooted back from her, not eager for more. "Startling," he allowed. "Please refrain from … tickling… me in the future."

Andrea laughed. "Should've known you'd be freaked out by it."

Artemis frowned. "It was - unsettling."

"Well, you'd better watch out. I know you're ticklish now," said Andrea, smirking as she handed him his sock and shoe.

"Are you also … ticklish?" asked Artemis curiously.

Andrea tossed her head coquettishly and stood up. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

"I'll take that as a yes," said Artemis pensively as he pulled on his sock and slipped on the loafer. There was a calculating glitter in his blue eyes. "Now, I'm assuming that people tend to be ticklish in the erogenous zones?"

Andrea shrugged carelessly, still looking as though she were a cat who had gotten the cream. "Maybe. I think it's different for everyone."

Offering him a hand, she pulled him up. It was then that Artemis made his move.

Moving like lighting, he grabbed her arm with his free hand and swung her around so that she was facing away from him. Ignoring her startled squeak, he grabbed her sides and tickled them.

"WAUUUGH!" Andrea convulsed, collapsed and curled into a quivering ball on the ground. "What was that for!" she gasped.

Artemis smirked. "No one _tickles_ Artemis Fowl II and gets away with it."

With that, he spun smartly on his heel and walked out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Shorter than usual, but this is the last chapter I'm going to post before I read "The Last Colony". I didn't edit this as closely as I usually do, so there may be the odd mistake.

**Chapter 7**

"We found them, Mud boy" Foaly's nasal voice sounded exhausted over the line.

Artemis nearly collapsed with relief. "Good."

It had been four days since Holly and Mulch had vanished and nothing had turned up. No clues. Nothing. He had been on edge the entire time, surviving on coffee, Earl Grey and pacing and the occasional piece of chocolate cake that a very concerned Juliet kept bringing him whenever she could break away from doing things with her fiancée.

"Where did you find them?"

Across the room, Artemis saw Andrea perk up at the mention of the word "Find".

"Chute wall," sighed Foaly. "Their shuttle crashed. Holly nearly died, from the looks of it. Her magic healed the worst of it and Mulch dug them an alcove."

Artemis' eyes widened. "Holly…crashing a shuttle?" The idea was too bizarre for even him to articulate it properly.

"That's the other thing…" Foaly sounded uncomfortable.

"What other thing?" demanded Artemis, not liking the centaur's tone.

"There's reason to believe they were shot down," said Foaly in undertone. "Mulch can't verify it. He was in the back and Holly's not talking. The warlocks put her into a temporary coma. The heat from the chutes drained her completely. Magically and otherwise."

"I see," said Artemis quietly. "Call me if there's any changes."

"You can count on it, Mud boy."

Artemis snapped the communicator shut and started pacing again. Andrea rose from her chair at the far end of the room and walked over to him, a concerned expression on her face.

"They found Holly right? And that other guy? They're alright, aren't they?"

Wordlessly, Artemis nodded.

"Why are you looking so depressed then?"

Artemis hesitated, his gaze darting from Andrea to the communicator in his hand and back. "They think the plane they were in was shot down," he said at last. "Holly was gravely injured due to the crash and the subsequent stress she was under, but Foaly says she'll be back on her feet soon enough without any ill effects."

"Lucky for her," said Andrea softly, staring at her lap. It didn't escape Artemis' notice that her gaze was focused on her amputated leg. Silence reigned for a moment or two before she shook herself out of her funk.

"Still, that doesn't really explain the long face," she said, peering up at him through a curtain of dark hair. "Or why you said she crashed a shuttle."

Artemis shrugged with forced nonchalance, relying on what he hoped was something that leaned towards common casual jargon. "Shuttle, plane - Same thing. It's not really a concern."

Andrea's eyes narrowed. "Of course," she said sharply. "To me, the one who's been sitting here for the past five days listening to your feet wear the rug down, a _plane _and _shuttle _are perfectly alike. Since I can't operate a bloody computer to save my life, I must _not _know that Microsoft and Linux are different operating systems and that you use neither. Just because I've been quiet while I've been watching you pace and mutter to yourself doesn't mean I've dropped off the goddamned map intellectually. The reason I haven't gotten in your face about it is because I know you care about these people. It's written all over your face."

As if replying to her comment, all the stress lines and emotion seemed to literally slide off Artemis' face as he took stock of his faculties. A tinge of shame marred his conscience that he had allowed himself to come so careless with his emotions around someone who was little better than a stranger.

At the same time, he realized he had barely noticed her over the past few days. She would vanish in the evening and reappear early the next morning, drifting noiselessly into his study and seating herself a respectable distance away from his desk and the rug he tended to stalk. Usually at one of the computer consoles or on the armchair that he normally read the evening paper.

In fact, the only time where he was quite certain he had not felt her presence in his study was when he knew that Juliet had dragged her off into Dublin to escape the male dominated Fowl Manor and do some shopping under the guise of getting Butler and her fiancée, Myles, to spend some time bonding, as the latter appeared to have been avoiding the former.

It didn't take him more than a few milliseconds to understand the sheer, staggering amount of communication she must have overheard between himself, Foaly, Sool, Trouble Kelp and other LEP personnel.

"How much have you heard?" he asked finally, not bothering to curse his stupidity, as he knew he had none.

Andrea shrugged, ducking her head. "A lot," she said slowly. "It doesn't make much sense though. Sounds almost as if you're running an underground Space Age that NASA has yet to notice. You talk about satellites and locators and shuttles, but also about chutes and stalactites and other stuff that makes even less sense, but if I knew if I opened my mouth to ask about anything, I might as well just have booted myself from the room. Whatever it all is, it doesn't sound too sinister. Except for that bit about the plane - shuttle - whatever it is – getting shot down."

"Shuttle," said Artemis quietly, feeling a new tinge of respect for the tempestuous Andrea Black - who appeared to be anything but tempestuous at the moment. Her hazel eyes were trained on him and her pixyish face was solemn. "Your information gathering skills are impressive."

Andrea shrugged. "Being invisible is the only way to get information in hospitals."

Artemis quirked an eyebrow. "Hospitals, you say?"

Andrea smiled wistfully, a hint of melancholy tinting her eyes dark. "How about I keep my secrets and you can keep yours, Artemis Fowl?"

Artemis eyed her for a moment, before inclining his head. "Very well."

Andrea flopped back on her bed, her stiff muscles groaning in protest. She had never stayed so still before. The past five days had been pure torture in that she couldn't indulge in her normal activity levels. Running to all corners of the Louvre and walking to and from her apartment usually kept her feeling reasonably active even when she didn't have time to work out, but here, she had sat still for most of the day for the better part of four days.

She wanted to stretch, but the fear of being walked in on again nearly paralysed her. Sitting up, she crossed the room and leaned against the window. Outside, the fading sunlight coloured the Fowl Manor's ground in the way that clear autumn sunsets were wont to do and the chill of the glass reminded her of how soon Christmas would be.

She wondered what sort of Christmas' Artemis normally had. His parents had tried to persuade him to come with them to the south of France for the holidays with some friends of the Fowl family, but he had refused point blank. On some level, Andrea understood his reasons. There was no way he could enjoy the holidays with the safety of Holly and that Mulch–person hanging in limbo. His parents had left the morning before, but not before Angeline Fowl had tracked her down.

"Andrea, dear…" Angeline's refined voice had stopped her cold outside the kitchen.

"Yes?" said Andrea, warily meeting Angeline's friendly-seeming blue eyes. The elegant older woman had then taken her arm and led her away from the kitchen where Juliet was cooking dinner with Myles' help.

"I never pretend to understand my son's moods," she said quietly as they walked along a brightly lit corridor lined with portraits of Fowl's long dead and gone. "He has always been one who prefers to keep to himself. But now, something is troubling him so much that he cannot even meet my eyes. I can do nothing, for I know nothing. He has never confided in me, and when he encounters difficulties, he hides them well. When I pry, he makes it clear that he thinks I should mind my own business…"

Andrea nodded and bit her lip. Angeline was hoping for information. Some insight into what had so effectively silenced her son. Andrea had wondered what to say.

At last, she had given into the pleading edge to Angeline's gaze. She told the truth.

"Two of his friends are in trouble, and he can do nothing to help them," she said softly. Angeline's eyes had widened for a fraction of a second. The elder woman had obviously presumed that her son had thought himself above the companionship of friends. Which was fairly close to the truth, now that Andrea thought about it. Holly, Mulch, Foaly and the others had never sounded like normal friends.

After her surprise had subsided, Angeline had nodded. "Most people do not like to feel helpless…" she said quietly. "My son would be more affected by it than most though."

"Because he's always so capable," finished Andrea.

Angeline smiled fondly and patted her arm. "Precisely. He is like his father in that respect. Neither of them can sit and do nothing for long."

"Sounds a bit like me too," agreed Andrea wryly, eyeing a few of the portraits on the wall.

"Well, you're a nice girl," replied Angeline with a nod, before looking Andrea up and down. "I think you're just the sort of person Artemis needs right now. Someone who isn't concerned with the fate of the universe or money. Someone _normal_."

Andrea raised a puzzled eyebrow. _That was a very abrupt change of subject... and what on Earth does she mean by Artemis needing someone like me? I'm not normal. Never will be again. _

Then it had hit her. Angeline was trying to push her in Artemis' direction.

Grimacing, she tried to break away. "Mrs. Fowl…"

"Call me Angeline, dear,"

Andrea mentally buried her face in her hands, but managed to keep herself from following through physically. _Yeah… definitely trying to play matchmaker. Who does she think she's kidding? I'm not normal. Hell… I don't belong around here at all. _

"Angeline – I don't think he does. He needs someone -" _more fascinating than I am _" – more intelligent."

Angeline stopped and gave her a stern look. "You're smarter than you think, girl. You're smart enough to read him, even if you're not sure of what he's talking about."

Andrea shrugged noncommittally. "If you say so."

Angeline smiled and patted her arm again. "Good girl. Now, I must be off."

With that, she floated away, leaving Andrea standing alone in the middle of the hallway, feeling distinctly bewildered without really knowing why.

Drifting back into Artemis' study, she saw he was in deep conversation with the Foaly person, whose nasal voice she now recognized, but whose face she had yet to actually see. She wondered if it was like Holly's. Nut brown and exotic looking perhaps.

"…. Some of the hull plating. The metal is ours, but it's charged strangely. I've been working on it with some of the tech-gnomes, but we haven't been having much success."

"Have you tried…"

Andrea tuned out their conversation as it turned to words that she had trouble grasping, let alone pronouncing. Instead, she stood stock still, watching Artemis' brow crease etch deeper and deeper into his forehead as he retreated further into himself, his mouth spouting mathematical equations like they were song lyrics, massaging his temples as he spoke. He made no indication of noticing her.

Settling down on the armchair that she had made her own almost, she let out a long sigh.

Catching sight of a painting on the wall, she wondered when they had gotten distracted from their true mission of reclaiming the Mona Lisa. It was strange how one's priorities could change so abruptly. Replaying her memories, she was soon laughing to herself about how shocked Artemis had looked when she had taken his cell phone.

He had been using it to talk to that Holly person… in the Salle de Etats….

_Wait a minute…_

Andrea jumped to her feet, and stalked over to Artemis' desk. "You can't use cell phones in the Salle de Etats!" she accused, slamming her palms down on it. Artemis started slightly, before he regained control of his faculties.

Artemis raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He seemed to be waiting for her to finish. This simple lack of a reaction made the rant that had been on the edge of her tongue evaporate, leaving her both thoroughly frustrated and indignant, but mute.

"You know cell phones don't get reception in there…." She finished lamely. One normally didn't get reception within the room due to the security wiring.

"Indeed, they do not," replied Artemis coolly. "Standard industry cell phones, that is."

"Annnnnnd you don't have a regular one?" said Andrea, feeling stupid.

"On the contrary," he replied. "I have several of them. However, the cell phone that I was using in the Salle des Etates – The one that you subsequently stole from me – was an enhanced satellite phone. It can pick up a signal anywhere you wish it to, as it does not rely on relay stations."

"Oh…" said Andrea, biting her lip. "Alright…Um… I'm going to go see what's Butler's making for dinner."

She spun on her heel to leave, when Artemis' voice stopped her.

"Miss Black."

Andrea turned back to face him. "Yeah?"

"I hope you are interested to know that I have found a lead on the Mona Lisa,"

"Really?" said Andrea, bouncing on the balls of her feet with anticipation. "What is it?"

"I will discuss it with you over dinner. Right now, I must finish this call."

Andrea frowned. "Oh… Alright."

Hmmm... I wonder what lead Artemis has. ;) Please Review and I might be motivated to tell you faster.


	8. Chapter 8

This is rather short, but I wanted to get it out there. Thanks to my reviews::hugs you all:: It's a bit of a rough chapter, but you'll see the TLC influences almost right away.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Andrea picked at her food, watching the door anxiously. Juliet, Myles and Butler were already seated around the table, eating and talking, but Artemis had yet to appear. The seafood rolls had started to go cold. Not that Andrea really cared. She hated fish with a passion and was consciously separating all the little bits of salmon from their bed of vegetables and … whatever the roll was made of.

Stabbing a particularly large piece of salmon, she shoved it across her plate, wondering what lead Artemis had on the Mona Lisa. When had he managed to get it, anyways? It's not like he had been doing much besides working with Foaly. Unless he was like Julius Caesar and could cut with one hand, write with the other, all while dictating a letter and a grocery list or something like that. The more Andrea thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Sighing as she accidentally pushed some of her dinner off her plate and onto the rich looking tablecloth, she quickly scooped it back up onto her plate, then glanced around to make sure no one had seen her. That's when she caught the trailing end of Butler's sentence.

"…the Headmaster called Angeline a few days ago about it. Mr. Fowl was furious."

Andrea frowned. Why would a headmaster be calling Artemis' parents? Surely he was a little old to be getting trouble at school.

"What did he say about it?" asked Juliet curiously, chewing on her salmon.

Butler shrugged. "Said if he got one more call about Oliver's behaviour, he was going to pull him and put him in the local comprehensive and see how he liked it there."

Juliet winced. "I bet Olli would love that even more than St. Bartelby's."

"I'd feel sorry for the local kids," said Butler ruefully. "They wouldn't know what hit them."

"What has my brother been doing now?" Artemis' steely voice made them all jump. The Butlers looked immediately contrite, while both Myles and Andrea looked between them and Artemis with puzzled expressions.

"You didn't know?" said Myles, in a slightly startled voice, then winced as a sharp crack sounded from under the table. If Andrea hadn't been so confused, she'd have laughed – Juliet had kicked him.

Artemis said nothing, his strange blue eyes were fixed on Butler and he was wearing a marked frown.

The huge man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Your parents asked that I wouldn't tell you," he hedged. "But Oliver has been toeing the line,"

Artemis arched an eyebrow. "Since when has Oliver not done so?"

"Good point," acquiesced Butler.

"What did he do?" said Artemis sharply, crossing his arms. He was the closest to outright anger that Andrea had ever seen. Juliet and Butler exchanged looks.

"He…" Butler started slowly.

"He was caught sneaking back into his dorm," said Juliet slowly. "With a girl."

"Unacceptable," snapped Artemis, spinning on his heel and striding out of the room. Juliet immediately jumped to her feet and ran after him. "Artemis!"

Andrea was too curious to not follow. Pushing back her chair, she trailed after them back to Artemis' study. By the time she got there, Artemis was already on the phone and Juliet was standing nearby, wringing her hands helplessly.

"-like to speak to Oliver Fowl," said Artemis coldly. He paused for a moment, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. "I don't care where he is. I would like to speak to him immediately."

Juliet caught sight of her peeking in the door and scurried over, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the room, shaking her head. "There's nothing that can stop Artemis now," she said sadly, sighing.

"Who's Oliver?" asked Andrea curiously. "Surely not his brother?"

Juliet let out a weak laugh. "Oh, Oliver is Arty's brother alright," she said, leaning against the wall. "They're so similar that it kills me, but do they get along? Oh man…It's painful to watch."

Andrea tilted her head. "Why?"

Juliet shook her head sadly. "If Oliver wanted to, he could meet or break most of the records that Artemis has set. When someone can make him sit still, he tests off the charts… because of that, Artemis expects so much of him. More than Angeline or even their father and as far as we can tell, Oliver has been doing everything in his power to disappoint Artemis. If it weren't for Diana, they would probably come to blows, as surprising as that sounds."

"Diana?" said Andrea, feeling even more bewildered.

"Artemis hasn't told you much, has he?" said Juliet with raised eyebrows. Andrea let out a snort. "He hasn't told me anything. I figure it all out for myself," she replied sourly.

Juliet smiled. "Well, Diana is just about the only thing that Oliver and Artemis have the same opinion about, and that's only because she's their sister."

"And what opinion is that?" said Andrea interestedly. Juliet laughed. "They both think Di has too many boyfriends."

"Just how old is she?" asked Andrea puzzledly, wondering how she could have completely missed the fact that Artemis has two younger siblings that she hadn't known about. Had she somehow overlooked pictures or portraits of them in the manor?

"Fourteen, same as Oliver. They're twins," replied Juliet. "I understand Artemis' concern, but I think Oliver's being something of a hypocrite at this point."

It took a moment for Andrea to figure it out, then she grimaced. "The girl he was caught with?"

Juliet nodded, rolling her eyes meaningfully. "Sad, don't you think? I can't believe I'm telling you this – hell, I'm didn't even want to know about it in the first place – but _damn_, the kid is fourteen and he's already more experienced than his twenty-five-year-old brother…" she trailed off and shuddered.

Andrea couldn't help but laugh at the dismayed expression on Juliet's face. "It could be worse," she said reassuringly. "Don't ask me how, but I'm sure it could be."

"Diana could be the experienced one," replied Juliet with a choked sort of giggle. "That's how it could be worse - Poor Artemis' heart would fail."

"Is Diana anything like the two of them?"

Juliet shook her head. "Not really. I mean, she's smart I guess, but she's not like either of them. Compared to them, she's actually relatively normal. She'd rather go out for football and maybe the judo team than do physics equations and whatever brainy things those two do for entertainment."

"Does she go to the same school as Oliver?"

"No, Bartelby's is a boy's school. She attends St. Margaret's in Dublin, so she usually lives with Artemis during the week and comes back here on weekends."

Andrea stared at Juliet. "Artemis lets his younger sister live with him?" she said, her voice more of a whisper than a gasp.

"Oh yeah," said Juliet with a nod. "Artemis gave her a room in his penthouse because she wanted to live closer to her friends in Dublin. She would be living here, but the manor isn't exactly the best 'hang-out' is it?"

"No," said Andrea softly, looking back at the door of Artemis' study. "I suppose it isn't."

* * *

"Yeah?" Oliver managed to turn the simple slurring syllable into both a challenge and a defense, something defiant, wounded and ultimately, expectant. Artemis felt his lip curl. His brother knew he disliked slang. 

"Oliver, this is Artemis, I -"

"I knew you'd call," sneered Oliver contemptuously, cutting him off. "Can't just let Father shout at me can you? Or just have Mum cry about how terrible her precious little boy is being? Oh no, I can never get by with anything without a lecture from the Great, Godly Artemis-_Fucking_-Fowl II. "

"Oliver," said Artemis sharply.

"Artemis," mimicked Oliver sarcastically. "Really, if you want to scold me, get it over with. I'm surprised you're not jealous."

"Jealousy is hardly something I would feel," replied Artemis. "Destroying my own future or that of a girl's is hardly desirable."

"It's not like you've even had the option of doing so," said Oliver, his smirk evident in his voice.

"Do you realize what you are doing?" said Artemis, ignoring his younger brother's attempts at insults.

"Pushing your buttons?" said Oliver, sounding mockingly hopeful. Artemis leaned back against his desk, massaging his temples and stifling the frustrated groan that rose in his throat. Oliver, thinking himself beyond normal reason, often defied it, declaring his independence both loudly and recklessly. Oliver was smart enough to avoid the IQ tests and thus comparisons to Artemis' score, hiding his own intelligence behind a façade of brash rebellion. But his apathy towards his schoolmates and his self-isolation was telling.

Artemis had summed it up on a paper he had written several months ago under the name of Dr. I. N. Telligence. It was common for children, and indeed, adults, who tested 30 or more points above a group average, would withdraw from their peers socially. Oliver may have thought he had flouted the rules by being troublesome, but truly, he was acting exactly as expected.

Unfortunately, Artemis found that this knowledge did little to stem the flashes of anger and irritation that often surfaced in response to learning of some of his brother's more irresponsible exploits. He had never been so careless at this age. The world had enough Fowls in it. It didn't need to loose or gain any prematurely. At least when he had decided to risk his own life, he had had Butler or Holly by his side. Oliver insisted on doing things alone, balking at even the thought of Butler watching over him. This alone had rankled Artemis unconsciously on some level. It was disconcerting and slightly worrying to think of his brother all alone, without backup or some form of companionship.

Artemis heard a click and saw Andrea slip into the room out of the corner of his eye, closing the door behind her carefully. Without a word or another sound, she stole across the room and settled herself in his armchair. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees, watching him curiously through a curtain of bangs.

So that was how she snuck in, he mused, admitting to himself that if he hadn't been partially facing the door, he would have missed her entrance entirely.

"Hardly," he replied, noting that barely a few seconds had passed between his brother's last words and his own. But the hesitation was enough for his brother to pick up on.

"Is someone there?" demanded Oliver angrily.

"Yes," replied Artemis shortly. "It is none of your concern."

"Who is it?"

A flash of inspiration struck Artemis at that moment, clearing his thoughts for a less than a second. He held the phone out to Andrea, who stared at it in surprise for a moment, before standing up and taking it.

"Hello?" she said softly. The paused for a moment, frowning. "No, it's not Diana. My name is Andrea."

There was a long pause and her face twisted into something that he had seen only once, just before she had seized his communicator. Artemis suppressed a smirk. Suddenly he understood how Butler had found the situation so amusing.

"Look kid," snapped Andrea. "I don't care who you think you are, but if you think you can use that kind of language with me, you're going to be retrieving my boot from somewhere up your ass!"

Pause. Andrea's lip curled as Oliver said something else.

"Oh, don't worry," she added archly. "I've already gotten Artemis where it hurts and I have no qualms about doing the same to you."

Artemis barely managed to suppress a wince that Andrea would be able to see. He had no doubts about whether she would follow through on her threats or not. Feeling a twinge of brotherly sympathy, he was relieved to see Andrea's expression soften slightly. Whatever she said must have worked.

Then she gasped and her face turned bright red as her mouth opened and shut, round and gaping like a dying fish.

Or maybe it hadn't.

"Tell him he's going to feel some serious hurt if I ever see him," she said tersely, shoving the phone back into his hands and stalking out of the room. Artemis stared after her bemusedly, already lifting the phone to his ear.

"Who the hell is that woman?" demanded Oliver, sounding perturbed for the first time that Artemis had ever heard. He smiled to himself. Maybe having Andrea Black around wasn't quite the chore he thought it would be.

"She's an associate of mine," replied Artemis smoothly.

"Bedroom associate?"

"Hardly."

"Not sleeping with something that fiery? Me_oowww_," crowed Oliver.

Artemis didn't see the point in replying to that. "I do not wish to receive any more notifications of your activities from the Headmaster."

"Whatever, Arty."

_Click. _

Artemis slowly hung up the phone and turned around. Only to find himself once again nose to nose with Andrea.

"So, what's this lead you were talking about?"

* * *

Please review! I would really appreciate it!. Also, for those who are interested, I've posted up the first several chapters of my original novel, "Saving Nicholas", on my fictionpress account, the link to which can be found in my profile. 

Thanks for reading!

Janna


	9. Chapter 9

_This chapter is dedicated to Hikari6007 - Who spurred me to start working on this story again about a year ago (Actually, almost exactly a year ago)... I don't have much to show for it, mostly in notebooks, but I'll update more steadily from now on. _

**Chapter 9**

"So, what's this lead you were talking about?"

Artemis felt his lips tighten and he resisted the urge to take a step back. Having his personal space invaded in such a way was getting tiresome and he said so. Andrea smiled in reply and retreated half a step. He could still feel how near she was, heat and scent gently wafting off her, but no longer close enough to be distracting.

"So," she said, having allowed him this small acquiescence. "The lead."

"A video feed was uncovered from the museum"

Andrea's eyes widened. "Really? Can I see it?"

Artemis nodded, motioning her over to his desk. He pulled up two videos: One from Paris and from Dublin. He tapped the screen to bring her attention to the time stamps, both showing the same time and date. Hitting play, he stepped back with his arms crossed. Andrea's face was a study in incomprehension.

"But…" she said, dumbfounded. "That's you. They're both you."

On screen, two versions of Artemis crossed a lobby and opened a door. One was the security feed from the apartment building in Dublin. He had been carrying a small cup of coffee and his briefcase. He turned and nodded to his old-lady neighbour as she came off the lift, stepping onto it himself and vanishing from sight as the lift doors closed behind him. The second feed was quite obviously one of the many landings in the Louvre. Instead of his briefcase, screen-Artemis was carrying a cloth bag. In his other hand, a flashlight winked. He turned to look behind him, his head bobbing strangely, before vanishing through a door on the far side of the landing.

Andrea stared at him, her mind obviously working through the myriad of thoughts that clouded it.

"It's fake," she said, her tone rising slightly as she gave him a fish-eyed stare. "One of them is fake."

Artemis didn't know whether to feel pleased or annoyed. "I notice you don't immediately assume that I'm the innocent victim of a framing."

Andrea pointed at the screen. "You could have easily taken the Louvre feed, copied yourself and put it on top of the scene from that lobby. Anyone can stick a timestamp on a movie if they know anything about video editing."

Artemis nodded. "That is true, however you are missing a vital point - "

"And that is…. What? Anyone with a macbook can make a bloody movie? I know you wouldn't have shown me this unless you thought you were an innocent victim. So someone took the video from that other building and turned it into you being a Louvre catburglar."

"Precisely," replied Artemis. "It also tells me that whomever made this copy has access to sophisticated editing technology and a fair amount of patience. Indeed, many things can be done, as you said, with home video software. But one of the things that points to more sophisticated editing is the flashlight. See how the light reflects off of many surfaces in the video? It was realistic enough to fool the French Police. They have just put out a European Arrest Warrant with my name on it."

"For a wanted criminal, you seem remarkably calm," said Andrea dryly. Artemis let out a humourless chuckle.

"This is nothing new, Miss Black. I have stood accused before, though this is one of the few times where they've been after a completely innocent man."

"Assuming I believe that or not."

"It doesn't really matter. Either way, you are in my company, and being a Louvre staff member and having already tampered with evidence, you would stand accused of collaboration. You _did_ insist on supervising me closely."

He couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on her face.

Andrea gaped at him, horror rooting her to the spot. Her face felt hot and her palms were slippery.

_Goddamnit, he was right_, she thought. She had walked right into the jaws of the trap of both the public and police perception. Henri was probably firing her as she stood here like a nitwit. She would never find another job – she'd be forever disgraced in the art world. She'd never be able to show her face in another gallery again. Feeling her knees go weak, she sank down onto a chair that Artemis hastily pushed under her.

"I'm so screwed," she whispered, blinking back tears.

"Oh… um…" Artemis was suddenly awkward, his head tilting sideways. "You'll see I'm not in prison just yet. Neither are you, whether or not you deserve it. This is a setback. An aggravating one to be sure, but merely a setback."

"A _setback?_" said Andrea shrilly, tears escaping her eyes. "You've got to be bloody well fucking with me. This is not a setback! This is horrible."

"I do assure you," Andrea heard Artemis say. "It is something solvable."

Clearly, he had no idea. Effing rich boys and their bloody money and legal teams to solve every hiccup in their lives. He had no idea. None at all. Anger coursed through her and she clenched her fists, ready to punch him. Seeming to sense this , Artemis retreated another couple feet. He turned to his computer monitor.

"What do you say, Foaly? Setback or no?"

Andrea heard what sounded like a whinny of laughter and a face flickered to life on the screen, but from the angle, it was too dim for her to see the man's long face clearly.

"Ah, so Mudboy wants my opinion?" asked Foaly, sounding amused. "I think it's both a setback and also a big lead. This smacks of Lower Elements editing technology."

"The Lower Elements is a part of your underground NASA space race?" said Andrea.

She could see Foaly's head snap sideways towards her but couldn't make out his expression.

"So you're going for the big reveal, Artemis?" he asked.

Artemis inclined his head.

"Well, it's on your head at any rate. You know what happens if things go south."

"What happens?" snapped Andrea, looking suspiciously between Artemis and the screen.

"You'll be mind-wiped," said Artemis levelly. Andrea blinked.

"They can do that?" she said stupidly.

"That and many many other things, girly," said Foaly, a note of pride entering of his voice. "There are many things the People can do to protect their secrets. I invented most of them."

"The People? It sounds like some sort of cult."

Foaly snorted in reply, but Artemis cut him off before he could say more.

"The People are another race – several races – that share this planet with us. They are highly advanced technologically compared to humans and live mostly underground."

"So like aliens? The BBC missed them showing up?"

Foaly let out an even more pronounced short. "Fairies, Mud-girl," he said. "We're what you humans call fairies. But that's a catch-all term."

"Indeed," said Artemis. "There are several races – eight to be specific-" He counted them off on his fingers. "Elves, centaurs, gnomes, goblins, pixies, demons, sprites and _. Foaly here is a centaur."

He turned the screen towards her, revealing Foaly's face. It was long and surrounded by a mane of tufty hair. His amused mouth was dominated by large horse-like teeth. He had a carrot wedged behind one of his pointed ears, evidently for safe-keeping.

"Well met, human," said Foaly.

"Likewise," said Andrea faintly, her eyes round. Artemis couldn't have picked a better way to distract her from her anger, she ruminated. Fairies were real – that was fantastic – and she didn't even think to doubt it. What little she knew of Artemis Fowl, she was fully aware he was capable of lying. However, the previous week's events had convinced her of two things – something abnormal _had_ been afoot and that Artemis was not the type to pull pranks like this.

"She's handling it better than the average mudman," said Foaly with a note of interest.

"She has been aware of the incidents over the past few days, if not the full circumstances," said Artemis, before turning to Andrea. "I expect you were somewhat subconsciously prepared for this?"

Andrea nodded slowly. "I did hear you guys talking about magic, but I thought it was a code word for something else."

She fixed them with a pointed look. "Fairies _can_ do magic, right?"

"Most of them," said Foaly. "However, some of us rely on other talents. My impressive intelligence, for instance."

Andrea cocked an eyebrow as she turned to Artemis. "Better than you, even?"

Artemis' expression looked slightly pained for a moment.

"Perhaps," he said noncommittally. Foaly chuckled.

"It has been awhile since we've matched wits, Mud Boy."

"It's probably for the best for this planet that our two intellects are working together rather than against one another," said Artemis.

"What, you've never clashed?" asked Andrea. "If I know anything about geniuses, they rarely deal well with competition."

Artemis and Foaly exchanged glances.

"You'll tell me the story some other time then?" said Andrea archly.

"No, I don't think so," said Artemis, brushing something off the end of his shirt sleeve. "Anyhow, I did contact Foaly to inquire if there would be some reliable way for us to venture between here, London and the continent during our investigation. Given that we're both wanted criminals, if we walked into Heathrow, I have no doubt we'd walk out with handcuffs. Foaly, you asked for my help with this investigation. I can't continue it if I can't leave my own estate. And no doubt, they'll soon come knocking here as well."

"We're aware of that, Artemis," said Foaly. "The original plan, if it came to that, was contract the job out to Holly and have her and Mulch transport you with LEP clearance. Keep things in the loop as it were." He glanced at Andrea with raised eyebrows. She grimaced at the unspoken jab, even though she was fairly sure that it wasn't solely directed at her. Well, it's not like she'd asked to find that damn book. And it wasn't her fault that that shuttle had crashed. She shuddered. The images of a fireball tugged at her consciousness, of twisted metal and screaming.

"But Holly's in no shape to be flying right now," said Andrea pointedly, biting the inside of her cheek to stay focused, to fight away flashbacks. "Is she?"

"Maybe in a week," said Foaly. "She'll be brought out of the coma tomorrow for a psychological evaluation, but for the moment, the warlocks are saying it's best to keep her under."

Artemis nodded. "What's our alternatives, then?"

"Well, there's Mulch…." Said Foaly, his tone dubious. "He was just released from hospital this morning."

Andrea saw a strange expression tug at Artemis' face, the corner of his mouth twitching, almost with amusement. It was gone within a second.

"When could he be here?" he said.

"I'm not giving him one of our shuttles," said Foaly immediately. "That dwarf doubled our insurance premiums when he stole that shuttle from Tara."

This time Artemis' amusement couldn't hide itself. "Which shuttle? If I recall, there's been more than one he's made off with."

"Couldn't someone else do it?" asked Andrea. "With all these shuttles flying around, there has to be someone else who can bloody well fly them. I'd like to solve this case without getting arrested, thanks."

Foaly grimaced. "Most fairies don't have direct contact with mudmen nor do they wish to. You have a reputation and it hasn't changed much over the centuries. And it's not like it's falsely earned either. There's a reason there's only a few of us who contact Artemis directly and he's one of the few mudmen we tolerate. "

"Someone else from Recon, Foaly?" said Artemis, rubbing the bridge of his nose, seeming to ignore the jab. "Someone who won't faint at the thought of chauffeuring three humans and a dwarf across the continent."

"Well, I know quite a few who would faint at the thought of transporting Mulch across the continent, let alone-"

"Foaly, please," said Artemis, sounding mildly exasperated.

"Alright, alright," said the centaur, frowning at something to his left. Andrea could hear him typing. "I've got someone. He's new on Recon and a decent pilot, but he'll be able to handle mudmen, I think."

"Dare I ask how you know that?"

"He's currently under review for directly engaging one in hand-to-hand combat."

"Now why does this sound familiar?"

"I wasn't going a kilometer over thirty!" snapped the older pixie, leaning over the door of his fancy red mag-car convertible. Corporal Twig Riggins sighed and held up the speed gun so the pixie could see the readout.

"The gun says you were doing forty-five in a thirty zone, mister," said Twig, feeling just about ready to clock the old pixie over the head with it. He reined the thought in before it could show on his face. The pixie seemed momentarily taken aback by the direct evidence of his transgression, but he rallied quickly. This type usually did.

"It's broken," he declared. "I can prove in court that I wasn't going any faster than thirty!"

"Oh," said Twig mildly. "So you'll be signing over your speed logs right now then? I mean, if you want to say this thing -" he gave the speed gun a bit of a shake "- is broken, then you'd better explain how it broke in the last three minutes, because it was working fine before then."

The pixie blinked. "I didn't break it."

Twig smiled. "I'm not saying you did. I'm just saying, if it broke, then it happened just around now, because the last fairy I pulled over was going too fast and admitted to going the speed she got clocked at. She even accepted her ticket with good grace." He gave the pixie a stern look. This look was amplified by Twig's thick eyebrows and his height, which was a good seven inches over the fairy average..

To his credit, the pixie didn't flinch – much. "I can prove it in court," he repeated.

"Well, if you want to make things that expensive for yourself," said Twig, shrugging. "I can have traffic obstruction and wasting court resources added to this ticket as well. I'm sure your lawyers would love sorting through that one, especially since I can prove both."

"You can't do that!" sputtered the pixie.

Twig stared at him silently, his eyebrows raised as if to ask _You really want to find out? _The pixie started to sweat slightly. He glanced hurriedly between Twig and the line of cars behind him, blocked by his stopping on the road to argue. To good effect, someone in the lineup behind them chose that moment to lean heavily on his horn.

"Just write the darn ticket," said the old pixie hurriedly. Twig smiled. "Yes'sir," he said, scribbling down the car's information. Tearing off the ticket, he handed it to the old pixie, who grimaced at the amount of gold he was going to have to pay. Haven was fairly stern on its speed demons.

"Have a good day," said Twig, touching his cap. The pixie drove away slowly, muttering to himself and Twig headed back to his cruiser.

Carefully folding himself into the small interior, he placed the speed gun on its holder on the dashboard. His partner in this traffic folly, Corporal Potria Green, was sitting in the driver's seat, alert but tired-looking. She brushed her shoulder-length brown hair off her forehead and waved a vague hand at the radio.

"You've got a call from Police Plaza."

"A call or a call-in?" said Twig, raising his eyebrows.

"Call-in," came a nasal voice over the radio. Foaly. "Get back here as soon as you can."

"Roger that," said Twig.

"Wonder what he needs you for," said Potria curiously. Twig shrugged. "I doubt it's a call-in to tell me everything's peachy again."

"Well, you shouldn't have let that human –

"Potria."

"I'm just saying!" she said, turning faintly pink. "It wasn't the smartest-"

"Potria!"

"Alright! Alright! The subject is dropped."

"Thank you. I don't think I could stand to hear it again. From what I've heard, Commander Kelp doesn't have anything on what old Commander Root used to be like, but it was bad enough."

Potria shrugged, her face telling him that she shared Commander Kelp's opinion of his submarine debacle even if she was a good enough friend not to say anything more about it. She keyed the ignition, checked over her shoulder and eased into traffic. Around them, mag-cars slowed a couple kilometers, as they tended to do whenever a cruiser was nearby.

Within twenty minutes, Twig was keying open the door of the Ops booth. He was refusing to be either pessimistic or optimistic. There was no telling what Foaly wanted, so it was useless to start theorizing.

"I'm wanted?" he said, poking his head in the door. Foaly wheeled around, carrot clenched between his teeth. He relocated it to behind his ear and grinned.

"There you are, corporal. I've got a job for you. Top secret, so close that door."

Despite himself, Twig was intrigued. He stepped into the booth and the door whished shut behind him.

"A better-than-traffic job?" he asked, mildly hopeful.

Foaly snickered. "Well, you're better equipped to handle it, seeing as to you've been brawling in the dirt with the mudmen."

Twig grimaced. "Well, it wasn't so much of a brawl, or even in the dirt -"

"Save it Riggins," said Foaly. "I read the report – quite the laugh, I'll tell you – but you'll be dealing with Mud men this time around as well."

Hope sprang up in Twig's chest, despite his earlier resolutions to remain stoic. He could go topside again? His feelings must have shown on his face, because Foaly snickered again.

"Don't get your hopes up yet, Twig. This is not a Recon jock mission. No wings. You're picking up Artemis Fowl from Tara in about five hours."

Twig blinked, but managed to keep his surprise otherwise under reign. _Artemis Fowl?_

Now _there_ was a name Twig didn't hear every day. He had been fresh out of the academy during the goblin uprising, but hadn't met the human or his massive bodyguard. He did, however, remember the troll video. Vividly.

"Will it be just Artemis Fowl or will Butler be accompanying him as well?" he asked, attempting to sound calm and well-informed, rather than completely bowled over. It apparently worked, because the next voice Twig heard was not a familiar one.

"He says so," said one of the screens. Twig could see Foaly grinning at his reaction.

"Artemis Fowl, this is Corporal Twig Riggins, your pilot. Corporal, Artemis Fowl."

"Well met, Corporal," said Artemis Fowl, nodding to him. Twig managed to nod back.

"Likewise, Mr. Fowl."

"Alright," said Foaly briskly. "Introductions aside, Corporal Riggins, you will be taking transport shuttle number 12 to Tara to pick up Artemis and his associates. Mulch Diggums will probably wish to accompany you, so I have already sent him a wave to meet you at the hanger. When you have brought them into the tunnels, he will brief you on the remainder of the mission. You can wrap your head around that, right Riggins?"

Twig managed to keep a straight face. One of his weapons against the centaur's ribbing, he had discovered. "What tech have you got for me?"

"You have your pistol?" asked Foaly. Twig nodded, patting the small plastic handgun in his holster. He'd had to get the trigger guard enlarged to fit his fingers, but it was his DNA-coded gun, only able to be used by him. The guns were now standard LEP issue.

Foaly clip-clopped over to a cupboard and pulled out a couple items. "Standard surveillance gear," he said, tossing a small pack onto a nearby table. Twig fastened the pack to his waist as Foaly eyed him up and down.

"Sign out a pair of wings," he added, glancing at Artemis Fowl on the screen, who nodded. Twig decided not to comment on this sudden reversal of the wings decision. Sometimes pointing out inconsistencies in his favour led to them being remedied.

"Anything else?"

"I think not, you'll mostly be driving the shuttle," said Foaly, grinning. "I mean, if you can handle that without starting a fight with the mudmen. Get going Corporal."

Twig was thankful to turn away. It was easier to role your eyes at your superiors – even if they were civilians – when you weren't looking at them.

* * *

Thank you to all of my reviewers - like Hikari above, whenever I got one of your reviews, I was spurred to open the document and add a couple paragraphs because then I would remember that someone else was wanting to know what would happen to Artemis and Andrea. Hopefully you're curious about Twig too? :P


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you "IJustCan'tChoose" for your review :) has been buggy for me lately, so if you submitted a review and I don't mention it, I probably didn't get it. (Or I could just be deluded and not have gotten any, lol).

* * *

**Chapter 10**

"What's at Tara?" said Andrea as Foaly's face vanished from the monitor.

Artemis turned to face her. "You are aware of Tara's significance in mythological lore?"

He saw her frown at his tone and managed to keep his smile to himself. It was a small revenge for all the indignities she had forced upon his person.

"Well," said Andrea. "I know it's apparently where the fairies dance and some sort of Irish king was crowned there. I just never thought the fairy dancing bit could be a literal possibility."

Artemis inclined his head. He thought about sharing Holly's one-time observation that Tara often had so many fairies dancing that the place looked like it was underwater, but thought better of it. It was a frivolous thought. He sat down at his desk and Andrea moved to the chair across it. She drew her legs up to her chin and looked at him through a curtain of dark bangs.

"So, we've got five hours to kill. Now what do we do? And why will it be so long? I mean, these guys sound sophisticated enough for us to be saying 'Beam me up, Scotty," if you know what I mean."

"Well, I'm inclined to think we should attempt to rest. In my experience, LEP shuttles will not fit us all comfortably and this will probably be a somewhat exhausting trip. To answer your second question, it takes several hours to reach Ireland from Haven, which is the fairy capitol – though I'm sure Foaly will devise something faster someday soon," he finished, a note of levity entering his voice.

Andrea pursed her lips and nodded slowly, her eyes unfocused and staring at what Artemis knew to be her damaged leg.

"Unfortunately, I doubt they could regrow a lost human limb," said Artemis, leaning back in his chair.

Andrea looked up quickly, her face flushing crimson. "O-oh," she said, sounding flustered. "I didn't really think they could."

"If you don't mind my asking," said Artemis. "What did happen for you to become injured as such?"

Andrea was silent for several minutes, her expression sparking the impression of trapped animal, before resolving into a tense, troubled frown. She glanced up at him, her resolve apparently solidifying for a moment and her gaze dropped back to her knees.

"Car accident," she said. "I had my legs on the dashboard. A truck hit us on the driver's side and well…." She made a futile gesture at the leg. "I saw my leg snap sideways and my mum die in the space of about two seconds, then the car went up in flames. I don't remember much else."

She shook her head, tears leaking out of her eyes. "And…even in those two seconds, all I could think… all that occurred to me really…" she looked up at Artemis with a haunted expression. "All I could think was 'I'll never be able to dance again'. I mean, that's pretty fucked up, isn't? I couldn't even think about mum, or Matt… all I could think about was my dancing."

"Matt?" said Artemis, curiosity overriding his clinical thoughts. Pain such as this was hard for him to look at, and he felt his mind throwing out terms like 'survivor's guilt' and 'post-traumatic-stress' in response – almost as an attempt to divert his feelings.

"M-my little brother… he was in the b-back seat," said Andrea, her voice hitching with constricted emotion. "He didn't m-make it either. He died a week after the crash."

Artemis stood and walked around the desk, his hand finding her shoulder and squeezing. He had learned enough Diana and Holly to know that women preferred a sympathetic touch. Perhaps it would help somewhat.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, meaning it. Andrea let out a sob and leaned heavily against him, her face burying itself in his abdomen. Artemis froze, startlement making his limbs feeling like they had turned to stone. His lighting fast brain was throwing out possible actions, but most of them he managed to dismiss, knowing them to be poor taste in a situation such as this.

He was left with two possibilities that seemed prudent – gently detaching himself and perhaps fetching Juliet to cheer her up or attempting to console her on his own. The former seemed a far more appealing prospect. Vagrant displays of emotion still unsettled him, however understandable such a display was at this point. Diana rarely cried or carried on like some teenage girls her age did, but the few times he had found her as such had always been difficult occasions for him.

Artemis shook his head. His mind was not dealing with the task at hand. While he could trust Juliet to put some things right, he knew she would want to know the whys and hows and Andrea could be once more forced to explain something she had already had difficulty dealing with. He had a strong suspicion –more than that – an almost absolute certainty - that the only reason Andrea had told him the truth about her injuries was due to the massive revelations he had decided to subject her to. A secret for a secret.

He was still quietly marvelling at this uncharacteristic leap-of-faith when a renewed wave of sobbing heaved through Andrea's body, bringing him forcibly back to the present. He patted her back awkwardly and following an instinct whose origin was a mystery to him, alternately stroked her hair gently.

Gradually, Andrea seemed to calm down and collect herself. Artemis offered her a pressed handkerchief from his pocket and she blew her nose noisily and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry…" she said in a watery voice, not looking at him. "I mean…"

"Do not apologize," he said, "this is –

"No, I am really sorry – God I totally ruined your shirt – and I lost it and -"

"This is nor-"

"I'm such a mess and fuck, I'm just – oh god, I'm sorry -"

"Andrea," Artemis knelt in front of her, grasping her shoulders to distract to force her to focus on him. She did so with difficulty, her eyes still watering. "Andrea, do not apologize to me. There is no need."

Andrea bit her lip, looking torn between guilt and embarrassment. Artemis met her gaze, struggling to think of what to say next. He forced a smile – it felt slightly wooden on his face, a spark of inspiration hitting him.

"As for the shirt – you can buy me a new one when we solve this case. I'm sure your refined sense of artistic sensibilities make you far more qualified than a- " He felt himself stumble over the next word "- a nerd such as myself to make choices in fashion."

Andrea stared at him, her expression flickering with consternation. Then she smiled faintly.

"Maybe," she said softly. "I don't think I can afford the shirts you wear though."

Artemis considered that. "I will make an exception then. You may buy whatever you wish."

Andrea's tear streaked face took on a somewhat speculative look. Artemis decided, knowing her track-record, that he did not wish to give her creativity much room or time to exercise itself. She could be imagining him in something lurid and tacky for her own amusement.

"It is quite late," he said. "Perhaps we should get some rest."

Andrea nodded and rubbed her eyes. "You're probably right."

They stood as one, Artemis releasing her shoulders. The lights had been dimmed in the hallways, telling him that everyone else had gone to bed. He saw her to the stairs and bade her goodnight. Turning away, he was halfway down the hallway toward his own rooms before it struck him that this evening was the first time he had addressed her by her given name.

* * *

_**Haven**_

Twig made a pit stop for some spinach and grub curry on his way to the shuttle terminal. He looked down at the take-out box with an amused frown. He had never been fond of spinach as a child, but his mother had insisted upon him eating it.

"You'll grow big and strong when you eat it," she had said, her eyes twinkling. "You want to get into the LEP don't you?"

Well, he was in the LEP. And he had grown tall and strong, though Twig knew even his mother had not expected the extent that her middle son's height would reach. They were a family of average height elves before he had come along. He was not quite in the human range, but that didn't stop his brothers – Temp and Trip - from ribbing him about it. They weren't as tall as he was, but they were just as sturdy and with Temp a full-fledged warlock, they were a pair to be reckoned with should he take offense. Thankfully, he no longer bothered to.

Smiling at that thought, he made his way to the LEP terminal. Palming and carding his way through the access point, he looked for a quiet place to wolf down his curry. Thankfully, Shuttle Twelve – one of the biggest shuttles in the LEP fleet - was parked in a deserted corner and he hunkered down outside the open hatch and opened his food.

"Oh, that smells good," a voice directly behind him nearly made him drop it and he clutched at the container frantically as he spun around, swearing under his breath. A dwarf was standing in the hatchway, his eyes gleaming with interest. Twig resisted the temptation to hug the curry to his chest. He didn't like the way the dwarf was looking at it.

"Mulch Diggums?" he asked. The dwarf wasn't wearing an LEP uniform or the uniform of one of the mechanics.

The dwarf grinned, massive teeth on display. "In the flesh. I only sign autographs for females though. You're Holly's replacement then?"

Twig ignored the joke – at least, he thought it was a joke - and nodded. "I suppose so. My job is to pilot the shuttle to Tara for yourself and a couple of mudmen and then onto wherever, once Mr. Fowl briefs me on the mission."

Mulch's grin, if possible, grew even wider. "Ah, so you're our personal chauffeur!"

Twig felt something twitch on his face at Mulch's mocking tone, but the truth of it was a little too stark to deny. He shrugged and took a couple bites of curry. Closing the box, he gestured for Mulch to preceed him into the shuttle. He started looking for a refrigeration unit for the curry box, then caught sight of the hungry spark in Mulch's eyes as the dwarf turned to face him.

Better not, he thought. Heading for the cockpit, he stowed the curry box within line-of-sight of the pilot's seat, under the other chair. Mulch sat on that seat, his grin still firmly in place as Twig started up the engines and ran through the system checks. Fairies on the shuttle hanger floor scurried about, readying the craft for takeoff.

"Take it away, monsieur chauffeur!" said Mulch in a mockingly regal voice and waving his hand as Twig pulled out the steering column and teased the craft into the air. Twig felt his fingers tighten on the handgrips, vaguely imagining them to be Diggums neck. He hadn't flown this shuttle before and he found it somewhat clunky as he slowly maneuverered towards the entrance to E37, taking his directions from the hanger's control booth.

Foaly's voice soon overroad the sprite giving him directions from the booth as they eased into the guided shaft leading to the chute.

"Alright you two, there's a flare due in twenty minutes, so communications will be down temporarily, but if you move smartly, you'll be able to avoid the heat easily."

"Roger that," said Twig, tongue between his teeth as he cleared the last of the guide rails. "And estimated contact time will be…?"

E37 yawned open ahead of the shuttle, a faint orange glow far below the only hint of the oncoming flare.

"About seventy minutes," said Foaly. "Keep sensors peeled regardless, Corporal. We don't want any more crashes. Foaly out."

Mulch, who had been looking like he was going to make some sort of funny remark, was suddenly sober. Twig flipped a few switches and felt the engines hum. Touching the controls, the shuttle began a swift rise towards the surface under his guidance. Twig didn't have eyes to spare for his passenger between the controls and the sensor readouts, so they rode in silence for the first several minutes, each absorbed in their own thought process. Also, there was a strange blip on the sensors off their rear port side. It was a good distance away, on the far side of the chute, but keeping pace with them. A sensor malfunction…? Or something else….?

"What do you make of that?" he asked, jerking his head at the screens. Mulch squinted at the readouts.

"I don't know," he said. "I didn't see anything last time, so I wouldn't know what to look for."

"You were shot down?" inquired Twig bluntly.

Mulch shrugged and scratched his head, his vibrating hair parting obligingly to allow him access to the scalp. "Foaly says so. There wasn't much of the shuttle left, but I've known Holly long enough to know she wouldn't crash a shuttle on her own. So yeah, shot down is the best guess after an equipment malfunction – and you know which one Foaly doesn't want to admit to if he doesn't have to."

Twig smiled slightly. He could imagine.

"How'd you survive it though?" he asked.

"Holly mostly. She yelled for me to get into the pod – the escape pod – and then 'Boom!'. That's the last I remember for awhile. I came to with the pod clamped to the chute wall. I thought Holly had died, but I found her below me a couple hours later. She'd jettisoned her pilot's seat – sheer luck where it landed. Her magic had healed the worst of it, but you know how hot the Atlantis Sub-Tunnel is. It sucked her magic dry within a day and we didn't have any water."

Twig winced. The dwarf would have been able to find moisture, but no wonder the Major was in such bad condition. A high-speed impact and total dehydration in the middle of a furnace.

"But evidence points to an attack on the shuttle, due to Major Short's warning," he said, raising an eyebrow at Mulch.

"Hard to say," said Mulch. "She could have seen a catastrophic malfunction and not have had time to spring and fix, let alone warn me. Foaly didn't pick anything up on his sensors other than normal traffic in the main chute."

"And you were in the sub-tunnel because…?"

Mulch shrugged. "Hey, she's a recon jock. The sub-tunnel is full of crust formations and stalactites or whatever. It's a pilot thing."

Twig nodded, understanding completely. He had eschewed the main chutes more than once for the more dextrous and challenging secondary tunnels. E37 was good for speed runs, but it lacked a little in variety. Gunning the engines, he brought the shuttle up to cruising speed and keyed for partial autopilot. He would control the steering but the ship's computer would calculate the most efficient cruising speeds in light of the winds and pressure fronts in the tunnel. Hopefully the heat from the flare would give them a bit of a boost.

Holding the steering wheel with his knees, he reached for his curry. Against regulations, he knew. But Twig had heard enough about Artemis Fowl related missions to guess that this was going to be his last quiet moment for awhile. He'd just managed to get the box open when an ear-splitting proximity alarm rent through the shuttle.

"D'arvit!" he shouted, dropping his food and grabbing the controls. A streak of sinister blue light arched across the chute in front of them.

"What the hell is that?" demanded Mulch, shielding his eyes.

"Unknown objects rapidly approaching off the port side!" snapped Twig, throwing the throttle sideways into a complicated dance that sent the shuttle bucking and twirling. "Foaly must've had extra sensors installed! There's no way that's a standard issue alarm!"

"It just saved our skins though!" gasped Mulch.

More streaks of light shot past them, impacting into the side of the chute with audible, jaw-rattling _WHUMPHS_.

"It's like a meteor shower!"

"Except we're not above ground! What the _hell!"_ Twig could barely read the sensors out of the corner of his eye as he struggled to avoid the arcing shower of lights, their approach showing as shadowy blips on the screens in front of him. He was having better luck following them visually. Forcing the shuttle into a steep dive out into the middle chute, Twig wrenched the rig sideways, swearing as the G-force compensators struggled to keep up with them. Mulch was just as foul mouthed, his hands clinging to the arm rests of the seat.

Zigzagging back and forth, Twig did his best to avoid the missiles, for the lack of a better word. One clipped the back tailfin and a sinister sizzling echoed through the shuttle and all of the systems flickered, sending them into a gut-wrenching drop before emergency power kicked in. Twig felt his throat seize as he reoriented the shuttle – the chute ahead of them was almost a solid wall of blue light, the origin invisible. Behind him, he knew the flare was quickly bringing up the rear.

Dancing the shuttle around another missile, he struggled to decide where to go. To go back was suicide; the shuttle wasn't equipped for a hot shot ride, even if the magma could've done something about the missiles. Ahead was a spider web of crisscrossing missiles and the nearest secondary tunnel was three kilometers up, diverging out towards the Spanish coast, near Gibraltar. He'd have to take the shuttle through and try to get to the second tunnel as fast as possible.

Taking a deep breath, Twig picked the area with the lightest concentration and gunned the engine, praying that this wasn't going to be a trap. His mind was wiped nearly blank as he cleared the first volley, the only points of contact with reality being the feeling of his hands on the steering column and the burst of light and sound that were the missiles and the dim awareness of profuse swearing in the seat to his right. For a moment, the shuttle rocked backwards as Twig threw it into a hard reverse, a missile missing the viewscreen by mere inches. The proximity gave no more insight into the missile's composition than the sensors had, the brightness searing his eyes. Sparks of magic obliterated his vision for half a second as the damaged retina was quickly repaired. The half-second nearly cost them the shuttle and another distinct sizzling noise echoed through its hull, the lights and controls flickering. Thankfully, it had been a graze. Twig choked up his tongue. It felt like he had nearly swallowed it. All of his stress went to his throat. They had a kilometer to go.

Twenty seconds.

Twig flipped the shuttle and it bounced sideways. The alarm was still tearing up their ears. Ten seconds.

Righting the shuttle, he gritted his teeth. Just a little more to go, a few more missiles to avoid. He could see the side tunnel, a jagged dark shape in the chute's wall. Too small to warrant dedicated lights, he punched the headlights button as they blew into the tunnel.

Twig almost collapsed onto the steering wheel from relief, even if his training prevented any such emotional reactions. Clear sailing. No missiles in the tunnel. He punched up the rear camera, and saw the missiles still lighting up the main chute like fireworks behind them. So it wasn't something following them. Twig knew he was a decent pilot, a damn decent pilot after that. But he wasn't just how much more he would have been able to handle. He suspected not much more.

"We need to get to Artemis. Now," said Mulch weakly. "Above ground, in human traffic so we can't be tailed."

Twig nodded. He had been thinking the exact same thing.

* * *

Andrea woke suddenly, unsure of what had disturbed her rest. Her dreams had been restless, but thankfully they had not dwelled much on the past. A strange, muted glow suffused the room, making her blink as her eyes struggles to reconcile it. She could see the edges of the bed posts and the lamp on the night table next to the bed in the semi-darkness.

Suddenly, the lamp – which Andrea suddenly realized was_ not_ the lamp - moved, coming around the bed, throwing into sharp relief a squat figure, its hairy form casting shadows on the bed.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The shriek tore from her throat as she seized the nearest pillow – a solidly stuffed bolster - and threw it with all her might. The hairy figure toppled over with what sounded like a curse.

"Diggums!" said a man's voice and there was a flash of light as the curtain was pushed aside. A different figure jumped from the window sill, feet landing with a dull thump. Andrea shrieked again, seizing the next pillow and flung it in his direction, quickly scrambling for the opposite side of the bed where she knew her prosthetis lay on the floor.

There was a groan from the floor and the second figure ran forwards.

"STOP!" shouted Andrea, advancing awkwardly across the bed on her remaining knee and the stump, holding the artificial limb like a baseball bat. The second figure froze.

Running footsteps thundered up to the door and it crashed open, the lights flicking on. Butler filled the doorway, his gun drawn. Andrea suddenly noticed that the second man was nowhere to be seen.

"There was two…!" she gasped, casting about with the prothethis, but Butler was already holstering his weapon and shaking his head, his amusement clear on his face.

"I picked the wrong window," said the hairy figure on the floor in an aggrieved tone. "I thought Artemis would be happy to see me."

"I'm sure he is," said Butler, crossing the room to help the little hairy thing to his feet. "But it would have been better for everyone if you had simply knocked on the front door."

Andrea suddenly understood. These two figures were some of the fairies. Or at least, the hairy one was, thought if there was anyone less fairy-like that she had imagined, this little hairy man was it. There was no telling where the other one went. She looked about suspiciously, pulling the covers over her legs.

"And that mud-girl knocked me over!" continued the little hairy man. "She could have damaged me, Butler, I'm sure of it!"

Butler rolled his eyes. "I doubt it, Mulch."

There were more footsteps and all three of them turned as one towards the door. Artemis appeared, a bathrobe over his pyjamas.

"Mulch," he said sternly. "What on earth were you doing up here?"

The little figure – Mulch - shrugged. "I thought I'd say hello. I thought this was your room, but evidently I was wrong."

Artemis stroked his chin, evidently trying to hide a smile. "It used to be my room, but Andrea is using it now."

The little figure turned to her. "Andrea, is it?"

Andrea nodded, pulling the covers tighter around herself. "You're… Mulch?"

The small man grinned, showing a bewildering array of teeth. "In the flesh. Name's Diggums. Mulch Diggums."

Andrea cast around, looking. "And the other guy, who's he?"

Artemis looked sharply at her, then at Mulch.

"You're not alone?" said Artemis.

"One of the Recon guys is with me," said Mulch. "Hell of a pilot, he shielded when Butler came in."

"Well, you're welcome to reveal yourself," said Artemis. Andrea noticed his eyes zeroing in on a corner of the room. She squinted, following his line of sight. The wood panelling seemed to have an odd shimmer to them. This shimmer suddenly resolved itself into a solid figure, dressed in a green jumpsuit, emblazoned with strange writing. He was a good deal taller than Mulch, and a full-face helmet obscured his features. Andrea glanced at Artemis and saw that he was looking mildly startled. Her eyes were drawn back to the fairy when he buzzed up his helmet's visor.

"Corporal Twig Riggins," he said, inclining his head, his brown eyes watching them all carefully. "At your service."

* * *

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